


4b

by nordpdc62



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 80s, F/M, Intergenerational Trauma, M/M, Mentally Ill Characters, PTSD, Racism discussed, Unplanned Pregnancy, Yiddish, diverse identities in america, vietnam flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nordpdc62/pseuds/nordpdc62
Summary: Jean Grey enters into a relationship that opens up a world of love, hardship, and beauty.A long and meandering story that focuses mostly on its central characters and exploring their conflicts.Written for a friend of mine about her favourite pairing.





	1. Chapter 1

The professor had told them to use the water-repellant, canvas table-cloths because it had rained the day before and he didn’t want them to get too cool when the sun set and the show began.

                He was seated off to her right and the lilac and orange sky illuminated his pale features and shining eyes. His legs were concealed under an olive green woolen blanket, in spite of the heavy, humid summer. Hank was stood next to him and was smiling and joking with the professor. He had a mint julep in his right hand, his left in the pocket of his khakis. Alex was on his other side.

                Alex’s blond hair had been recently trimmed by Jubilee and she’d done her best but it still looked awkward. He’d tried to slick it down with some pomade but Jubilee hadn’t accounted for his cowlicks and it fought the wax. He still had his sunglasses on.

                “You want a coke?”

                Scott dropped onto the checkered canvas next to her with his shoes on. He had two glass bottles in his hands.

                “Yeah, please,” she replied and he popped off the cap on one of the bottles before handing it to her. She blushed.

                It was hard not to blush around Scott. He was cute. But she didn’t really think about how cute he was when he wasn’t around. She couldn’t tell if she actually liked him. She could see how much he liked her, though she tried to give him the mental privacy that the professor insisted others were entitled to.

                She took a sip and set the bottle onto the canvas. Scott was looking at her.

                She glanced over at the professor, who looked tired and who’s brain was buzzing. She tried to shut it out. He was tired and on edge. She was close to knowing why but she knew she shouldn’t keep looking. She breathed slowly.

                “I wish we could do fireworks in town,” Scott leant back on his elbows. “I mean, I know some of us look like…” _Freaks._ The word echoed around his mind, along with an image of the agony when his mutation first manifested, Kurt’s unusual appearance closely following. _Freaks. Freaks. Freaks._

                He scratched at the skin under his goggles. “I just miss like, I don’t know, not being with the same people all the time. Except you, I mean, and Jubilee and everything, but like… it feels like we never get out. I don’t know.” He fixed the cuffs on his jeans.

                “I know what you mean.” Jean looked over at Alex, who finally took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. He caught her eye and stuck out his tongue. She glared at him. “At least you have your brother around.”

                Scott followed her gaze and flipped off Alex. Alex returned it with both hands. The professor said: “Alex, no, come on…”

                The cohort from the school was positioned on the side of the creek opposite the town. Townies couldn’t see them, but she could smell the barbecue from their cookouts and heard the deejay. She wanted to be over there, too.

                It was starting to get actually dark and she made sure to find her coke before it became too hard to find in the twilight. The first firework shot into the sky.

                The townies whooped and hollered.

* * *

 

                Five minutes into the display Scott brushed his fingers over her knuckles and she could feel the tightness in his chest and the fireworks in his brain. Her stomach hurt.

* * *

 

                Alex’s eyes were lit up by the fireworks. His smile creased his cheeks and pushed up towards his eyes. It was infectious. There was dissonance in his head. The explosive notes inspired images of jungle carnage, confusion, and excruciating pain. He kept his eyes on the fireworks. That way he could remember it was fireworks. He was trying not to cry.

                Jean watched him and saw the display through his eyes. She wanted to comfort him. She wanted to press kindness into his mind. The professor had said not to. She wanted to anyway. When you have the ability to comfort someone, isn’t it a sin to refrain? How does God watch from heaven and allow pain to manifest when He has the absolute power to stop it?

Virgin Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

* * *

 

                The finale was rapturous and Jean couldn’t help being distracted from Alex’s pain by the beauty of it. Everyone was visible in the sparkling light. It reflected off the stream and she saw an alarmed family of ducks cower in fear. Their mother concealing her ducklings with her wing. The father approaching from behind to offer further aid. She couldn’t see their minds. But she could see their actions. This for them was the end of the world. If they should die, they didn’t want to take their children with them. Let them live and prosper, until the next cataclysm.

* * *

 

                She’d rolled up her canvas and tucked it back inside Kurt’s picnic basket. Jubilee was talking to Scott about some smutty book she’d read. Peter was drinking a beer next to the professor. Hank was about to fall asleep.

                Jubilee turned to her: “We were thinking of sneaking out to the roadhouse to grab a few beers. They don’t card. Wanna come with?” Jubilee’s voice was low and her eyes bright.

                Jean blushed again and was glad for the dark. “I don’t know… who’s going?”

                Jubilee grinned and counted the names off on her fingers. “So far, me, Kurt, Peter, Alex… I think that’s it. I wanted to invite Hank but I feel like he’d tell on us. Scott can’t go because he has to study.” She stuck out her tongue. “What a nerd, right?”

                _Alex_. She was glad Jubilee couldn’t read minds.

                “Yeah, okay,” Jean said. “I’ll go.”

                “Yes!” Jubilee was genuinely happy. “Okay, we’ll sneak out when everyone’s already back in the manor.”

* * *

 

                Sneaking out was a breeze. Hank and the professor were drinking. Mr. Lehnsherr was taking a smoking break (and he really didn’t care if anyone sneaked out). The rest of the teachers were sleeping. It wasn’t even that late.

                They walked into town by the light of the moon. At first they kept their voices low but once they crossed the gate and could no longer see the lights of the manor, they could become raucous.

                Alex teased Kurt about his outfit, which Kurt thought was stylish, and Alex thought was only stylish for East Germany. Kurt was actually somewhat hurt by the comments. Alex didn’t know and kept teasing.

                Peter was quiet. He chewed on the side of his mouth while he walked.

                Jubilee told her some things about her book. “It’s called sixty nine,” she whispered and then giggled. “I think it’s like something where… I don’t know… I think you have sex upside down? They didn’t give a lot of description.”

                “That’s not what it is,” said Peter.

                “Okay then, what is it?” Jubilee put her hands on her hips.

                Peter’s face split into a grin. “There is no way I am going to tell you what that is.”

                Jubilee pouted. “Unfair.”

* * *

 

                The roadhouse was hard to get to. Jean had to keep projecting a “normal” image for Kurt continuously. When they finally got there, it was almost midnight and the dirt lot in front of the old barn that housed the bar was packed with shiny, black motorcycles.

                Alex led the group, turned around and grinned at her before pushing open the doors.

                The roadhouse was noisy and packed. There was a stage towards the back of the bar where a slim, black clad ghostly pale woman crooned wistfully into an old-fashioned microphone. There was a pool table and some arcade games. Jean immediately felt the pressure of over a hundred minds buzzing with images, thoughts, emotions… it was overwhelming. She inhaled slowly and amplified her projection of Kurt. No one batted an eye.

                Peter told them to go find a table and strode up to the bar to get them drinks. The barmaid was an older woman with hair twenty years out of fashion and whose makeup looked like Bela Lugosi’s as Dracula.

                There was one empty table with not enough chairs. Jubilee immediately slid into a chair while Kurt found some more chairs and brought them over.

                Alex was still grinning and repressing the violent images his brain had supplied him during the fireworks. Peter came over to the table carrying one beer per person in his arms. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he said, carefully placing them on the table so they didn’t spill.

                It was always weird being out with Peter. He was simultaneously at ease and horribly tense all the time. He was comfortable and distant. He never felt like part of the group. He was always separate. He was older but also too young to be part of the old guard. He was Jewish. He didn’t feel like he had any friends. He had weird hair. She wanted to hug him and help him understand that they were his friends. She had to be subtler than that.

                “So Pete.” Alex took a swig from his beer and the violence in his head dulled for a moment. “What’s it like having a dad?”

                Peter grimaced. “Weird. Really weird.” Jubilee laughed. “I think he’s enjoying it more than I am, to be honest.”

                Alex chuckled. “He’s a weird guy. When Charles first got our group together he was even weirder, if you can believe it.”

                “Yeah, I can actually _definitely_ believe that.”

                “You must miss having a dad, right?” Jubilee looked at Alex, changing topic in possibly the worst way possible.

                Alex choked on his beer. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

                “Please…” said Kurt. “Don’t say ‘Fuck’. Hank says we shouldn’t say that.”

                Alex raised his eyebrows and glared at Kurt. “Shut the fuck up.”

                Jubilee laughed. “I feel like most of us are orphans. You’re kind of the weird one here, Peter.” She tickled his elbow and he blushed. Jean felt like being an orphan might hurt less than having your parents kick you out. At least being an orphan didn’t mean your parents made a choice and chose against you.

                Jean looked at Alex. He was surly and now memories of his and Scott’s parents were mixing with the violence of Vietnam. He remembered how he’d let down Scott as a surrogate parent. It hurt. It hurt him so much and his throat was closing. He downed his beer in one gulp.

                She couldn’t really drink much because Kurt was there and she had to disguise him. She wished he hadn’t come. She wished she could get drunk enough to ignore the professor’s blocks and advice and dive fully into Alex’s mind. She’d tie up his loose ends. Caress the images of his parents. Support him with knowledge that he’d done his best to be there for Scott and the absolute knowledge that Scott loved him and didn’t resent him for anything. He understood. He understood, Alex, and he loved you. Why couldn’t he see that?

                She took a sip from her beer and mixed it in her mouth with saliva to burn out some of the alcohol and swallowed.

* * *

 

                It turned out Peter had brought some cards with him and they played Texas hold ‘em for an hour. Jubilee got up to flirt with some bikers and shoot some pool. Peter followed her. Kurt was a lightweight and was dozing in his chair.

                “I’ve had too much to drink to keep playing this…” Alex had only had two beers and they weren’t remotely impairing him. “Want to switch games?”

                They changed to war, which was great because Jean didn’t feel like she was cheating any more by just existing. Games of chance were always more fun to her because they had nothing to do with anyone. They were pure luck.

                After a triple war in which Alex’s queen bested her five, the crooning waif switched song to something more upbeat. She didn’t recognize the song, but she knew she could move to it.

                Alex’s mind was in the same place. He grinned and gathered up the cards, placing them in his jacket pocket. “Wanna dance?” His eyes sparkled and the violent images from the fireworks and Vietnam were completely evaporated.

                She grinned back and jumped to her feet. “Please!”

                Alex took her hand and pulled her to the dancefloor in front of the stage. There were a few other couples dancing there. Women looking like Sandy from _Grease_. Men looking like Rockabillies. Alex and she stood out. He had on a flannel jacket and his grey t-shirt was tucked into some washed out jeans and his hair was a mess. Jean’s sweater made her look like a school girl (which she was). Her denim skirt made her look virginal (which she was). Her socks were uneven inside her Mary-Janes.

                He placed his arms on either side of her waist and her heart advanced into her throat. Her hands were shaking as she laced them behind his neck. She knew she was blushing and could feel the sweat of her fingertips against the bristly hairs on the back of his neck.

                His hands were big and if he stretched them wide they could probably fit around her waist. They felt gentle and sure.

                The song was fast but they were moving slowly. He was looking at her and there was the  warmth of a day inside during the rain in his eyes.

                “I’m sorry about what Jubilee said….” Her hands were still shaking and she tried to will them to be still. “She can be really insensitive sometimes.”

                Alex laughed from his chest but she could sense the pain in the back of his mind. “It’s fine. I mean, she’s a kid, you’re all kids, people can be…. It’s fine.”

                Jean looked at his eyes and tried to relax the tension from her shoulders. “Do you think I’m just a kid?”

                He blushed and his hands tightened on her waist. “I mean… I think, I think you’re… I mean you are a kid.”

                “I’m seventeen.”

                “Yeah, well, I was already in jail at your age so I guess I can’t really say anything. I imagine seeing inside everyone’s minds makes you grow up.” He was looking at her again.

                It felt like her heart was shaking inside her chest. She leant her head forward to listen to his heartbeat. She didn’t know why she did it and part of her wanted to pull back, but the comforting gesture impacted every part of Alex’s body and his brain lit up with something akin to compassion. “I’m still sorry she said that. I’m sorry about the fireworks too. I know it’s hard for you, to hear the sounds and smell the gunpowder….”

                Alex suddenly let go of her waist and the light inside his mind cut out. “Don’t do that.”

                “Sorry, sorry, do what?” Her arms were shaking.

                “ _Don’t_ read my mind. I don’t want you seeing that… shit. Okay?” His voice was harsh and her chest was tight.

                “I’m… I’m sorry, Alex, I can’t help it sometimes. You know I can’t help it.” Why couldn’t she stop shaking.

                “It’s _private_ , okay? It’s not for you to look at.” His pain was genuine and his concern was for her innocence.

                “I said I’m sorry.” She put her arms back around his neck and he hesitated before returning to her waist. He was looking at her but she couldn’t look at him. Her face was burning and her eyes were ready to spill over tears.

                Why couldn’t she keep her stupid mouth shut? Just because she wasn’t influencing people’s minds didn’t mean she wasn’t invading them. She felt so embarrassed that she wanted to just die. Of course she was wrong. She’d hurt him. She couldn’t just expect him to forgive her.

                And now he was guilty. He pulled her head to his chest and she could hear his heartbeat again. The tears spilt from her eyes onto his flannel.

                “I know you’re working on it, Jean.” He ran a hand over her cheek and horribly she felt immediately aroused. Their bodies were so close.

                She pressed her face into his chest and just resonated in that moment. Her breath was hot against the shirt and her tears slowed. It was just breathing and the beating of his heart.

                “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?”

                A biker’s voice cut through the music and silence descended on the roadhouse as everyone turned towards the same spot: Kurt at the table. Exposed.

                He vanished immediately into a puff of smoke but it was too late: everyone was shouting.

                “You saw that, right?”

                “What the fuck was that thing?”

                “I didn’t even see him come is, Scooch, and I’ve been watching the door all night to see if Bandit was coming!”

                The music had stopped and Jean looked at Alex, panicked. His expression was alarmed and he glanced over at Peter and Jubilee with a clear expression: let’s split.

                Peter grabbed Jubilee’s hand and pulled her towards the door. Alex looked around quickly to make sure no one was corelating their exit with Kurt’s disappearance. Everyone was distracted. He walked with Jean trailing him towards the exit.

                She tried to erase as many memories as possible but Alex was walking quickly and it was hard to navigate the agitated crowd and people’s minds at the same time. She bumped into a leather covered biker accidentally and he spun round, missing her entirely and laying eyes on Alex. A vein stood out on the biker’s forehead and he wound back his right hand before bringing it crashing into Alex’s cheek.

                Alex lurched back and pulled Jean further behind him. Rubbing his cheek and trying to manage his shock and anger he said: “I don’t want any trouble, man.”

                “The fuck you bump into me then?”

                Jean emptied his brain and his eyes glazed over. She pulled Alex out of the club while the crowd continued its agitated murmuring. She couldn’t wipe all of them. She hoped she’d done enough.

                Outside it was pouring rain. Peter and Jubilee were sprinting down the muddy road that led from the roadhouse towards the town and the manor.

                Alex ripped off his flannel and held it over Jean’s head to shield her from rain. They walked briskly, trying to avoid splashing too much in the mud and trying to catch up with Peter and Jubilee.

* * *

 

                Kurt let them in the manor when they finally got back. He opened the door to the kitchen as quietly as possible and beckoned them over. They entered making minimal noise.

                Kurt had lit a fire in the kitchen when he saw the rain and Peter immediately started taking off Jubilee’s jacket and hung it in front of the fire. He then rushed over to the stove top and put a kettle of water on to boil.

                Alex grabbed a kitchen towel and dried off his hair. It stood in points like an infant kitten.

* * *

 

                Peter made them Hot Toddys. Mr Lehnsherr had shuffled into the kitchen in the middle of the cocktail mixing. He’d rolled his eyes, grabbed some deli meat from the fridge, and kissed Peter on the forehead, muttering something before leaving.

                The Toddy relaxed her chest from the tightness that’d resided there since the dancefloor conversation. Alex was holding his to his sternum. In spite of the fire, he was still chilled to the bone from the torrential rain.

                A bruise was blooming horribly across his left cheekbone and eye socket and Jean’s heart sank. He was hurt. He was already hurt but now his face was hurt because she’d got distracted and stupid. Kurt was embarrassed. Alex was hurt.

* * *

 

                After a snack of apples and peanut butter, Jubilee went to her room, Kurt went to his, Peter went to his, Alex went to his, and Jean was… standing in the corridor.

                She shared a room with Jubilee. Jubilee was in there, cackling over her smutty book, and Jean was standing in the corridor feeling hot in the face and upset. The evening had ended on a sour note because of her and no amount of Hot Toddys (regardless of how soft her face felt) would make up for that.

                Her hands were shaking again as she knocked on Alex’s door.

                “Yeah?”

                She slowly pushed open the door.

                Alex was sitting on the corner of his bed wearing plaid flannel pj bottoms and no shirt. Jean stomach and groin reacted to that instantly and she felt ashamed.

                “Hi,” she said. She pushed the door closed behind her. He was looking at her and through him she was looking at herself. He saw her flushed cheeks and she instantly felt even more embarrassed. He saw her complexion and found it beautiful. She blushed more.

                “Wanna sit?” His voice was low and scratched in his throat.

                “I’m… yeah… sure.” She slid down onto the bed next to him and instantly felt her labia heat up again and her cheeks blushed. It was awful.

                “What’s up?” He pulled his socks off and threw them across the room into a heap of dirty clothes.

                “Alex.” Her hands were shaking less and the Hot Toddy was dulling parts of her brain. She reached out and touched the bruise on his face. “What are we going to do about this bruise?”

                “Oh,” he scoffed. He reacted to her touch. She wasn’t sure how. “Definitely not the first time. Definitely won’t be the last. This wasn’t even that bad.” He reached up and touched her hand.

                And that’s when she collapsed—not exactly collapsed, more _slid_ —she slid into his touch and rested her forehead against his. He put both hands on either side of her face and pulled her into a kiss.

                Then he was on top of her, pulling off the sweater she’d thought made her look like a virgin (it did) and running his hands over her body as he kissed her. She felt all the heat from the dance they’d shared earlier reappear as their bodies were once more impossibly close.

                His kisses were strong and she almost felt like she was being burned but in the most wonderful way. From his perspective, he was aroused and felt drawn to her like they were bound together by some invisible force. He blinked a couple of times and caught his breath. “This is a bad idea. I’m sorry.” He stood up from the bed and where his body had been suddenly felt ice cold and empty.

                She didn’t know what to say. She wanted him. This was different than anything she’d ever felt flirting with Scott. This was the way she felt rubbing her fingers against her crotch until her fingerprints were rubbed off. This was the way she felt watching fireflies at night. This was the exhilaration of riding a bicycle down the hill with no brakes.

                She stood up and stood before him. He looked at her. They were close again and she could feel the heat radiating from him. Staring him dead in the eye, she reached one hand awkwardly behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let it slide off her chest, down her arms, and land on top of her sock-covered feet.

                Alex’s eyes widened and he kept his gaze intentionally on her face. His cheeks burnt and his pulse quickened. “Jean…”

                She reached out and took his left hand in her right, guiding it up to her really hard nipples (partially due to the cold of the manor at night and partially due to her excitement). He cupped her breast and ran a calloused thumb over her nipple.

                And he was on top of her and the rest of her clothes were practically torn off her body. He was on top of her and punishing her with kisses and bites and sucking and rough hands. She didn’t even see when his trousers came off. Her eyes were screwed up shut when he ran his hand against her pocketbook and forced a finger inside where she was burning and weeping. Then there was something much bigger inside her and she felt like her brains were spilling out through her hair as she stretched her neck and arched her back and shuddered every muscle in her body. Light was pouring out of her all over the floor and through the entire planet the world was purified.

                “Jean,” his breath was warm against her face and her kissed her gently on her eyelid. They were lying together, wrapped in his sweaty flannel sheets and a wool blanket. More importantly they were wrapped up in each other. They were both coated in sweat but it was like she couldn’t hate it. Her mind felt soupier than it had earlier. She kissed him tenderly and rested her head against his blond chest before drifting into the unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meant to post this on friday. Here it is on saturday. Cheers.

She woke up and she wanted to stay in bed. Light poured in through the windows and she could hear the birds singing.

                She looked over next to her in bed, and there he was. Wrapped up in the sheets. Snoring softly.

                She pulled herself close to him and fit her shoulder under his armpit so she could rest her head on his chest and hear his heartbeat again.

* * *

 

                Leaving his room was more complicated. Alex shared a bathroom with Peter and was almost seen by him when he came into Alex’s room to ask for a comb. (She deleted herself from Peter’s vision while she stayed curled against Alex.)

                (She looked in the corridor and searched for minds. No one was near.)

                She slipped into her sweater and grabbed the rest of her clothes. She kissed Alex fiercely before running out his door and slipping silently into her and Jubilee’s shared room.

                Jubilee was staring at her.

                Jean dropped her clothes into the hamper and ignored her.

                “What. The. Fuck?????” Jubilee was practically bouncing.

                “Shut up!” Jean whispered, slipping into some sweatpants.

                The only class they had that day was PE. She could get a nice shower after that and no one would know. She’d just have to avoid the professor until her mind stopped buzzing but she could manage that. She just had to hope that Jubilee wouldn’t spill the beans to everyone.

                “What… who did you _do_?” Her eyes were bright.

                “None of your beeswax, that’s who.” Jean glared.

                Jubilee raised her eyebrows and grinned. “That is such a virgin thing to say, oh my god. I mean… not that that matters anymore.” She winked. “Was it good?”

                “I said it’s none of your business, Jubes, please.” She was begging. She didn’t have to beg. She could’ve just erased the memory from Jubilee’s mind. But she wouldn’t. The professor had said that would be wrong.

                “I told you when I had sex!” She was pouting.

                “No, Jubes, you told me _that_ you had sex. You had sex before we met.”

                “Yeah, and it sucked. What was yours like?”

                Jean rounded on her and tried to use her height to her advantage. She hoped rather than believed it was intimidating. “I’ll tell you but if I tell you you are forbidden from ever telling anyone ever.”

                “Well, yes, of course.” Jubilee shrugged but she meant what she said.

                Jean sat down next to her on the bed and brought her lips close to her ear: “Alex.”

                “WHAT?” Jubilee shrieked and bounced up and down. “Are you kidding me? He’s so hot! Really? That’s amazing! What was it like?”

                “Be quiet!!!” Jean urged. “It was really nice.”

                Jubilee scowled. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

                “I’ll talk about it more when I’m ready. We have gym in an hour, don’t you want breakfast?” She stood from the bed and got into her sports bra and tee-shirt.

                Jubilee grinned. “Okay, yes, I’m really hungry but we are _far_ from done discussing this.” She winked. Jean groaned.

* * *

 

                Peter was already in the kitchen and was smearing cream cheese on a bagel. “Morning.” He muttered (Jean could only understand because she could see it in his mind, to Jubilee is just sounded like muttering). He poured a big cup of black coffee.

                Mr. Lehnsherr and Hank were sitting at a table together and arguing quietly. Hank was upset and Mr. Lehnsherr didn’t care. The professor was sitting alone with a steaming cup of Earl Grey and a stack of papers. She avoided his eyes and mind. Jubilee sat down on a sofa and she sat beside her.

                Alex walked into the kitchen and took the coffee carafe from Peter’s hands and poured himself his own cup of coffee. He shoved some slices of bread in the toaster and poured a glass of orange juice.

                Jubilee, being annoying and unnecessary, giggled and bumped into Jean’s arm. Jean’s face burned.

                Peter sat next to Jubilee so their thighs were touching which he noticed through his entire nervous system and she found annoying at the front of her brain. “You guys get much sleep? Where’s Kurt?”

                Jubilee shrugged and tried to lean closer to Jean. “I don’t know. Probably eating Twinkies in his room. You know he’s not supposed to have them.” She looked at Jean and it was obnoxious.

                Alex glanced over at the three of them and caught Jean’s eye. He smiled and turned towards the toaster which expelled his toast.

                “I wonder what he’d look like fat.” Peter gulped his coffee and his leg next to Jubilee started moving anxiously. He took a big bite out of his bagel and got cream cheese on his stubbly cheeks.

                Jubilee kept looking between Alex and Jean and raising her eyebrows which Peter didn’t notice but Jean did and she wanted to punch her in the face.

* * *

 

                Alex was teaching PE that day and Jean’s heart settled in her throat and her thighs shook.

                The PE room had once been a stable and the floor had been redone in wood so they wouldn’t be destroying themselves on concrete. Kurt was wearing his sweatpants pulled up to his armpits and it made his crotch look really weird.

                When Alex started describing the basic self-defence moves they’d be practising that day, it was like her mind filled with warm honey and she had to think through soup to decipher his words. How could he act so cool when she was feeling so hot? She wanted to listen to his heartbeat again and feel his rough hands against her skin.

                Alex picked Peter to demonstrate the moves on. Peter didn’t have to take classes but he did anyway because he felt like it. Alex twisted Peter’s arm behind his back and pinned him to the floor.

                “What the fuck?” Peter gasped when Alex released him. The class laughed.

                “Okay, so it shouldn’t actually be _that_ easy.” Alex laughed with them and then turned to Peter. “What was that? I thought you’d like… done any kind of sport ever?”

                Peter straightened out his sweatshirt which had got pulled up over his hairy chest by Alex’s attack. He muttered something about track and ballet and grimaced.

                “Grey. You next.”

                Alex didn’t even look at her when he said it but her breath caught and she shook as she strode to the front of the class.

                “Ready?” Alex spoke directly to her and there was warmth in his gaze. He took her hand and she felt like everyone must know, but a quick scan revealed only Jubilee did (and she better keep her damn mouth shut). It was arousing. But that was weird. So Jean tried to focus on the exercise. “Did you see the block I showed… the one that Peter didn’t do?”

                Jean shook her head and Alex smiled.

                “It’s okay, I’ll show you again.”

                He demonstrated again in slow movements with her.  

                Jean always had an advantage in hand-to-hand combat because she could see what the other person was doing before they did it. This advantage was counteracted by her being uncoordinated.

                Alex made to grab her wrist and she was able to dodge and block him before her tennis shoe let out an ear-splitting shriek as it skidded out from under her and she landed on her back.

* * *

 

                The back of her head was throbbing and her muscles were starved of oxygen and throbbing. Everyone was screaming “WHAT JUST HAPPENED” “WOW THAT WAS SAD” “IS SHE OKAY”. Why wouldn’t they stop screaming?

                Her mind was racing, her body shrieking, everyone was screaming and the pressure was too much on her spine which was throbbing. She felt her hands move into fists and she brought them up level with her eyes that were spilling out tears all over her over-heated face. Why wouldn’t they stop screaming?

                “Jean.”

                Alex had actually said that. The other voices were people’s thoughts. _Relax your shoulders and shut them out_. That’s what the professor had told her. She inhaled deeply (though her abdomen shuddered) and exhaled before opening her eyes.

                Alex’s face was leaning over her. Everyone else in the class was standing around her.

                “Jean, you fell over and hit your head. Peter’s getting Hank to come and look at you.” He was concerned. There was heat radiating from her face but her forehead was cold. She wanted Alex to pick her up.

                Peter broke through the circle of on-lookers with Hank, who knelt down beside her and immediately shone a pen-light into her eyes. She blinked uncomfortably.

                “Doesn’t look like a concussion,” Hank said to Alex. “She can come to my office to ice her head.”

                “Yeah, okay.” Alex took her hand and pulled her up to a sitting position. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder but couldn’t think of a way to do it subtly. “You’re not too light-headed?”

                “I’ll be okay,” she said, quietly.

                He gave her a warm look and helped her the rest of the way to her feet.

* * *

 

                She’d been in Hank’s office before but the experience was never pleasant. Hank managed to make things that weren’t awkward painfully awkward. He’d stutter when talking about menstruation (and said it “men-STRU-ation”), which was annoying because when she’d started her cycle he was the one that had explained it to her. He saw her as a little sister, she could see through his eyes, but there was something else there. A thin, white curtain they could both see through but never cross. Hank kept himself distant.

                “I want you to lay down,” Hank said. He wasn’t looking at her but trying to wrap an ice pack in enough towels she wouldn’t get too bad of a headache.

                She rested on the sofa in his office. There was also an examination table but she really didn’t want to be lying on that. It was ice cold, even though it was July.

                Hank came over with the ice-pack and held it against the back of her head. It didn’t feel great but she knew it would take down the swelling. “If this starts to give you a headache, let me know,” he said. He maneuvered around her and arranged the sofa pillows so they were supporting her head. “Can you hold the ice-pack for a second?”

                She nodded.

                He transferred it to her, got up, and pulled a blanket out of one of his cabinets. He unfurled it and draped it over her. “I don’t want you sleeping, okay? But I also want you comfortable. I don’t think you have a concussion, but I still want Jubilee waking you up every four hours tonight and you’re not doing classes tomorrow. Sorry.”

                They spent an hour just alternately icing her head and talking about what had happened. Hank said he thought she had the wind knocked out of her. He read to her a bit from the newspaper. A child had been kidnapped in Florida.

* * *

 

                “Sorry about earlier.”

                Classes had ended for the day and she, Jubilee, Peter, Kurt, Scott, and Alex were sitting by the stables. Peter and Alex were smoking. Kurt was trying to bum cigarettes from them.

                “That wasn’t even your fault,” Jubilee said to Alex and then turned to Jean: “You slipped and fell and it was hilarious.”

                “Shut your mouth!” Jean pouted.

                “I’m your friend so I’m telling you the truth, it was hilarious.” Jubilee shrugged.

                Peter held his cigarette like a European. “It looked really bad. I should’ve caught you.”

                “Yeah, no, I should’ve caught her.” Alex sighed and took a drag.

                “You missed a lot of fun last night.” Kurt poked Scott on the shoulder with one of his long fingers. “I was seen.”

                Scott shuddered. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

                Jean and Alex exchanged looks. He felt guilty. She felt a rush of energy behind her eyes.

                “Pieter got us drinks.” Kurt grinned and showed off his white teeth. “It was fun. We also played games and cards.”

                “I mean.” Scott shrugged. “We can do that at the manor. I don’t know if sneaking out is such a good idea. You know the professor can read minds and Hank can see through everyone’s shit.”

                Jubilee imitated Hank: “Watch your fucking language.”

                It was Jean’s turn to shudder. She could usually tell when the professor was reading her. _Usually_. She didn’t want to get in trouble. She didn’t want Alex to get in trouble. Alex was sweating and gripping the fence of the stable with white knuckles.

                “Actually, question.” Alex flicked his cigarette into the mud. “Pete, why didn’t you do your fast thing and make us not have to walk so long in that goddamn rain?”

                Peter glared at him and blew smoke through his nostrils. “Okay, so we already had a bunch of burly bikers screaming about us being freaks and you thought that would be a good opportunity to show off my mutation?”

                “I mean, if it got us out of there faster, yeah.” Alex grinned.

                Kurt chuckled. It was nice to see him react this way to what had happened. He used to be so embarrassed and mortified if ever he was seen by anyone. Now that he had actual friends he wasn’t as concerned what people who didn’t care about him thought.

                Alex lit another cigarette. Jubilee stared at Jean with a stupid smile and wide eyes. Jean shook her head and looked around at the lush, July foliage.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was sailing. Sorry this is late.

A week had passed and she’d not got to speak to Alex one-on-one. She’d got up several times in the middle of the night but she sensed Peter in Alex’s room every time complaining about something. She longed to see him again. When she read him, she knew that he felt strangled when he thought about her—he wanted to be with her.

                It was painful. She tried to bury the pain. She didn’t want the professor to find it.

                Finally, after a day spent picnicking with Jubilee, she saw him, alone, smoking by the stables. Jubilee spotted him, too.

                Jean broke away towards him. “I’ll catch up with you,” she said to Jubilee. Jubilee giggled.

                When Alex saw her he dropped his cigarette in the mud. “Jean.” He looked around and saw Jubilee staring at them and walking towards the manor. He gave her a nervous wave. He looked around for anyone else. He knew how to scan an area from his time in Vietnam. He didn’t see anyone other than Jean and Jubilee.

                “Alex!” She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into one of the stables in shadow and embraced him. She pressed her head to his chest and heard his heart. “I’ve missed you so much.”

                His hand were reticent but he soon grasped them around her back and ran some fingers through her hair. His breath was hot on the top of her head: “Jean….”

                He was scared but also so comfortable to be with her again.

                She looked at his face: “No one knows. Okay, Jubilee knows but she’s not told anyone and she’s not going to.”

                His shoulders relaxed. “Well that’s something.”

                “It’s stupid having to run around like we’re doing something wrong.” She pressed a kiss into his chest.

                Alex’s throat closed up. “I feel like we are.”

                Jean pulled away from him. “We would be if I didn’t have a say in this but I do, so no, we’re not. I’ve seen something wrong before and this isn’t it.”

                Alex glanced around again furtively. “Let’s go somewhere further from the manor. I feel like the professor is everywhere around here.”

                Jean looked over her shoulder.

* * *

 

                The greenery that was so soothing to Jean for Alex made his chest even tighter. It was like he was always one foot fall away from the jungle and guerilla warfare. Beautiful leaves and radiant green so green it was blue splattered with blood and intestines. Grey matter. Someone’s brain. At least this smelled different. The ground felt different. It wasn’t the same. His chest was still tight from the gnawing intuition that someone would spring from the ground cover and impale his friends—impale Jean. This was not the same place. His breath was still tight.

                They sat on a log in a clearing and ate animal crackers from her purse. “Did you tell Peter?” She knew he hadn’t but she also knew that people didn’t like her just knowing things.

                “What? No, of course not.” Alex laughed. “That would be an _awful_ idea.”

                It was nice just having their shoulders touching. Warmth radiated from his body to under her skin.

                “I wouldn’t be upset if you did.” She bit off the head of a tiger. “I mean he’s your friend. I told my friend.”

                Alex yawned. “Peter’s not really my friend. I share a bathroom with him and he talks to me sometimes. Hank’s more my friend, but I think telling him would be a bad idea.”

                She leant her head on his shoulder and he tipped his to rest on hers. “I guess.” She brushed her finger tips against his thigh.

                He pushed a kiss on her lips and he was on top of her again. She giggled maniacally as he sucked on her neck and ran his hands over her thighs and the fine, transparent hairs on them. His hands were under her skirt and hers were under his shirt, her cold fingers colliding with his warm torso. A shock to his system that sent him into a deeper frenzy and pressed stronger, rougher kisses on her.

                Afterwards her back was wet from being pushed against the fallen tree. Her underwear had dead leaves and dirt in them from being dropped on the forest floor. Alex was helping brush off her clothes and pick leaves from her hair. In spite of all the debris, she felt cleaner for this.

                Alex wrapped his arms around her and held her body close to his as he kissed her, deeply and with ecstatic relief.

                She detected a curtain. Disgust. Anger. And then it was gone.

                It didn’t come from Alex, but she suddenly felt nauseous and uneasy. Her skin was cold. Her eyes felt dry.

* * *

 

                The unease persisted as they made their way slowly back to the manor. The sun was almost entirely set and Alex was chatting happily about a fishing trip he wanted to take with Scott and the locations he’d been scouting out. He wanted to go fly fishing again. Their dad had taught them when they were kids. He wished his parents were still around but didn’t know how they’d react to all this. That his dad had been a test pilot meant that he probably would’ve wound up dead and covered up eventually. What would’ve become of their mother? What would’ve become of Gabe?

                Jean was only half listening. It was as if the lights had been put out in half of her brain. Something was wrong but she couldn’t find it. It was being hidden and deleted before it could be realized inside her mind. Something with the professor. Something with anger. Something with disgust. Something was going to be a problem. Something had to be done _now_.

                Alex caught a glimpse of her expression: “Jean, everything okay?”

                “Yeah, of course.” She crossed her arms and didn’t look at him. “Just kind of cold.”

                “You have such cold fingers.” He laughed. “You sure you weren’t meant to be a nurse?”

                “Haha,” she said, flatly.

                She could see the manor up ahead of them. Kurt was sitting on the steps playing cards with Scott on the steps. Hank came out, said something to them, and they went inside, leaving the cards.

                Her brow furrowed and the nausea descended to her intestines and stomach muscles.

                Hank was staring at them. He didn’t say anything as they got closer.

                Alex spotted him and his stomach flipped. He said, easily: “Just showing Jean some of the hunting trails.”

                “Jean, go in the manor now.” Hank didn’t look at Alex.

                “No,” Jean said. She wrapped her arms around Alex and Alex pried himself away from her.

                “Go in the manor. Right now.” Hank stepped towards them.

                “It’s okay, Jean, go.” Alex’s mind was torn. Was this about them? Was this a new mission from the professor? Jean wanted to scream.

                Hank stared at Alex’s face. “Listen to him, Jean.”

                Her eyes were spilling tears and she felt an intense anxiety in her guts. “Please…” she said softly.

* * *

 

                She watched through the window as Hank screamed at Alex. She didn’t give them privacy. She read everything.

                Hank was livid. He’d seen them. This was a huge betrayal of trust. He’d told the professor and Alex was going to be in so much trouble. He wasn’t allowed to go near Jean as the professor figured out what to do.

                Alex stood there with his gaze on his shoes and his hands in his jeans pockets.

                Alex was angry but also terrified and guilty. He couldn’t hold Hank’s gaze. Hank berated him for thirty minutes before grabbing him roughly by the arm and pulling him into the manor.

                They walked past Jean in the corridor. “Alex!” she cried. He looked at her but Hank wrenched his arm harder and he looked away.

* * *

 

                No one was talking to her.

                Well, Jubilee was talking to her but she figured even if Jubilee died she would find a way to return and continue talking. They would have to put her in a sound-proof casket.

                She looked out the window of her room and watched a stag graze on the lawn. He was alone.

                Half of the lights had stayed off in her brain. She knew it had to be the professor. It made her feel like she was living in soup. Split pea soup. The hearty stuff her mother used to make that would slow her every movement. She stayed miserable.

                There was a knock at the door. Jean didn’t turn around. It wasn’t Alex, Hank, or the professor.

                Jubilee pushed the door open. “Knock knock,” she said gently. “I brought you some tea.” She came round and set the tea on the windowsill in front of Jean. The steam obscured the stag.

                Jubilee sat on the bed next to her. Jean kept her gaze on where the stag had been when she could still see it.

                “So, there’s going to be an announcement today.” Jubilee twisted some of her hair around her finger. She was looking at Jean and speaking slowly. “We’re all supposed to go to the dining hall ten minutes before dinner.”

                “Okay,” Jean said.

                “I think it’s probably about Alex.” Jubilee said.

                Jean’s lips quivered.

* * *

 

                Everyone was coagulated by the fireplace. It was an unusually cold night for late July. She stood next to Jubilee who kept her hand on Jean’s shoulder. Kurt was looking at her, as was Scott, and she wouldn’t look at them. They had no idea. Maybe her face just made them want to look at her. Her eyes were red and wet.

                The professor rolled into the room with a solemn expression. Hank was by his side, masking some barely contained rage.

                The professor inhaled and exhaled slowly before speaking. “It has come to my attention,” he said. His voice was low but everyone was silent. “That one of our instructors has been engaging in a relationship with a student.” He was tired. Jean didn’t care. “Of course,” he continued. “This is unacceptable behavior and the instructor in question will be leaving. Classes will continue as normal, with a substitute taking their place. I don’t want this discussed further.”

                Jean wanted to scream but her throat was closing and she felt like she was going to faint. Had Alex already left? Had the professor blocked that from her so she couldn’t even say goodbye? She wanted to scratch his face off.

                “That is all.”

                Everyone started talking at once.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of it.

The first moment she got she bolted. She didn’t care if anyone saw her crying but at the same time she turned their eyes away with her mind.

                _Jean, stop!_ The Professor’s voice reverberated around her head. She pushed it out and ran faster.

                She ran straight to Alex’s room—the door was open—she ran through it. Inside the drawers in his dresser were open and the clothes-pile in the corner of the room was gone. Alex stood at the foot of his bed, eyes cast down and folding a pair of khakis.

                She slipped under his arms and pressed her face against his chest. Her tears instantly soaked through his shirt and made her hot cheeks cool. Her nose was dripping.

                Alex dropped the khakis and his large hands held her back.

                “Please….” She was sobbing. “Please, I love….”

                “Jean.” His voice was tight but deep. His hands were warm and didn’t shake. “I won’t be gone forever.”

                “I’m going with you.” Her snot got on his shirt and its saltiness touched the tip of her tongue.

                “Jean….”

                A hand grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her out of his grasp. Hank.

                She spun around and slapped him across the face. Hank grabbed both of her wrists and she writhed and shrieked. Then her knees buckled. Her brain slipped out her ears. She saw the lamp glint off of Alex’s golden hair. The taste of salt. The room went dark and she slept.

* * *

 

                Jubilee was looking at her and it was still dark outside. Alex wasn’t in the building. He wasn’t anywhere near her. She tried to sit up but her head spun and her stomach lurched. Her neck sweated and she stayed on her pillow.

                “You fainted.” Jubilee said. She felt lost.

                “Where is he?” She didn’t need to comfort Jubilee.

                “Hank drove him to the train station.” Jubilee looked down and wrung her hands. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

                She wanted to shriek. She wanted to burn through everyone’s heads. She wanted to level this manor and escape. But her body was heavy. Her eyes felt empty, but they dripped tears. She wanted to throw up. She didn’t want to move. She rolled onto her side and her entire body sweated again. Under her tongue sweated. Pain emitted from her left eyebrow. She closed her eyes and swallowed her spit.

                Jubilee’s little hand was rubbing her back. Her tongue kept sweating. “I’m so sorry, Jean.”

                Jean’s face felt heavy.

                The door opened and Jubilee’s hand pulled abruptly from her back. Hank.

                “Jean…” Hank spoke carefully. “Are you awake?”

                Jubilee was glaring at Hank. Good.

                Jean didn’t say anything.

                “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, okay?” Hank was speaking to her like she was an infant. In his mind she was a six year old baby sister. Her face burnt and her tongue sweated more.

                Jean pushed herself up with her right arm and her abdomen spasmed and the sweat increased around her face and her cheekbones wanted to cry and she vomited onto the floor.

                The sweat instantly abated and she saw Hank’s feet leap backwards. “Jesus!” Hank exclaimed. “Okay, I’m going to go grab something.” He left.

                Jubilee was staring at her and looked grossed out. Jean spat out some more vomit and returned her face to the pillow.

                Hank returned moments later and clumsily cleaned up the vomit. He asked Jubilee to help but she said, “Ew, gross, no!” and he didn’t bother to argue with her. The smell made him feel sick and he fought off vomit himself. He was worried about her. He was really worried about her. She hated seeing him actually care. He put a thermometer under her tongue but found no fever. He cleaned up her face with a wet cloth and asked Jubilee to keep an eye on her. “You can talk to me,” he said, gently. “I know this has gotta be hard for you. I know. I’m sorry.” His hand rested on her back and it didn’t feel like Alex. He left. She slept.

* * *

 

                Jean woke up at four feeling sweaty and nauseous and wanted to cry because she didn’t want to throw up again, but when she did it was in her and Jubilee’s bathroom and she could rest her face against the cool tiles next to the sink. She brushed her teeth and washed her toothbrush extra hard. Jubilee was still asleep.

* * *

 

                Jubilee woke her up around eight because she was awake and wanted to get breakfast but didn’t want to go alone (she didn’t want to leave Jean alone, she thought Jean would kill herself, Jean didn’t feel like doing anything). She followed Jubilee and didn’t care that her face felt like it looked like shit. SHIT. Shit. She didn’t say out loud but she said it a bunch of times in her head. *Fuck* she didn’t really want to say that one out loud. It felt too rude. But *shit* was good. SHIT. It soothed her face.

                The kitchen had people in it but her brain was numb and she didn’t bother to listen to them or silence them. They were irrelevant.

                “Hey.” Kurt joined her and Jubilee. He looked at Jean and was alarmed by how upset she was. She didn’t really care. “Jean, do you know who he was seeing? What a scandal, eh?” He elbowed Jubilee and Jean wanted to smack him but could barely motivate herself to keep moving towards the kitchen.

                “Shut up,” Jubilee said.

                Kurt looked nonplussed. “Did I say something wrong?!”

                “Yeah,” Jubilee snapped at him. “Stop talking.”

                Kurt hissed at her and muttered “bitch” under his breath before joining Peter and Mr Lehnsherr (reading a newspaper) at a small table by a window. The view was onto the expanse of green.

                Jubilee steered her towards the fridge and started making sandwiches for the two of them. Plain ham on potato bread with some mayo and mustard. Jean wanted bologna but didn’t have the desire to open her mouth and speak. Jubilee put the ingredients back in the fridge and put the sandwiches on plates. She got them both glasses of milk and found them an empty table in a corner. Kurt was glaring at them. Jubilee flipped him off.

                The sandwich tasted like nothing. The corner was kind of damp. There was a small light in the lower back corner of Jean’s mind that had appeared and didn’t appear to have any origin. There weren’t discernable thoughts. There was a presence. The longer she focused on it the better she felt but also the less she understood it. It was extremely elusive and every time she thought she could grab hold of it it darted away. There was something joyous and all knowing to the movement. Swimming wildly in a heavenly golden lake.

                “Earth to Jean… come in Jean….” Jubilee waved her hand in front of Jean’s face.

                Jean looked at her and the light remained, but she was focused on Jubilee now.

                “How are you holding up?” Jubilee’s eyes were wide and she was waiting to take a bite from her sandwich.

                “I’m… awful.” Jean shrugged. She didn’t want to say that she was angry at herself. If she hadn’t passed out she might have been able to find out what train Hank put him on. As it was, she had to try to dig information from places the Professor had already blocked off. She couldn’t go looking for him if she didn’t know where to look. She… couldn’t bring herself to find a way. She felt so incredibly tired.

                Jubilee put a hand on her shoulder.

                The light glowed in the back of her head and radiated peace, as much as she was hurting—and she was aching from her loss—there was something mysterious within her that was numbing the pain and feeling something quite the opposite.

* * *

 

                Neither the glow nor the nausea disappeared over the course of the next week and Jean was unable to find any more information about where Alex was. Hank and Mr Lehnsherr were alternating taking over the PE class and both of their classes were awful in different ways. Hank would make them do calisthenics with no focus on combat. Mr Lehnsherr would make them fight each other with no particular rules until someone got hurt and then he’d shut the whole thing down, tell them not to talk about it, and then step out for a smoke.

                The other classes were just… endurance. Jean wasn’t paying attention. She only ever did homework because Jubilee was doing it too and she was just kind of blindly following her at this point. She felt sick all the time. Her period was late (and she needed to get more pads anyway, but she doubted anyone would trust her in town). If she stood up too long she felt faint. She just wanted to eat and sleep. Bathing seemed like too much work at this point.

                Jubilee and Scott were working on math homework together and Scott was explaining Algebra to Jubilee that she already understood. Jean never got why she liked to play dumb so much with boys. It was annoying.

                “Where’s Peter?” Jean asked the pair of them.

                They looked up from their book. Jubilee was pitying her. Scott was depressed because his brother had left but had no idea what had passed between her and Alex.

                Scott adjusted his goggles: “He’s probably in his room or with Mr Lehnsherr.” Scott turned to Jubilee. “He really needs to stop teaching PE. I think I might have broken a rib.”

                Jean left the room and shut the door behind her.

                Alex’s old room was abandoned so she strode through the room, through their connected bathroom, and into Peter’s room. Peter jumped from his seat on his bed when she entered the room.

                “I need you to walk me into town.” She said.

                Peter closed the science fiction book he was reading and groaned. “Why?”

                “I need to buy… women’s things.” She looked at him with urgency and could feel the discomfort curdle in his head.

                “Sure. Fine. Okay.” Peter got up.

                They were almost out the door when Mr Lehnsherr stopped them.

                “Pietro, wo gehst di?” He was smoking, as usual.

                “Dad….” Peter took a deep breath. “I have to take Jean into town to buy women’s stuff. Like… _period_ stuff.” He whispered the word and it made Jean laugh and have to pee.

                Mr Lehnsherr grimaced. “Whatever. Put on a jumper. You will freeze to death.”

                Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s July.”

                Mr Lehnsherr took off his sweater and pulled it over Peter’s head before pushing him out the door.

* * *

 

                Peter ripped off the sweater the moment they were beyond view of the school. Walking at a regular speed made him antsy.

                “Sucks about Alex,” Peter said after they’d been walking in silence for a few minutes. It was sweltering and the backs of her knees were wet and her stomach felt too empty.

                Peter suspected it had been her together with Alex. But he also didn’t want to suspect it. His mind was always in contradiction.

                “Yeah, it really does.” She rubbed her arms.

                Peter was quiet for a few moments. “So… you two fucked?”

                She winced at the profanity. She focused on the glow at the back of her head for a moment and it soothed her. “Yeah,” she finally said. “Yeah.”

                Peter put his arm around her shoulder and it felt awkward. She tried to relax into it but it still felt weird.

                “Are you upset?” He said quietly. “About what happened?”

                It was too uncomfortable so she wriggled out from his arm and he felt mildly hurt. “Of course I’m upset.” She snapped. “I… really, _really_ care about him, Peter.”

                Peter was quiet a bit longer. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

                “Excuse me?” It felt like a slap on the face. She rounded on him and she could feel his persistent anxiety increase. “Did _what_ to me?”

                Peter sputtered and then said: “Like, he shouldn’t’ve fucked you? I mean, you’re a fucking kid? That’s wrong! Okay, it’s wrong. It was _wrong_ of him to take advantage of you like that. I’m sorry it happened.”

                Peter meant it and she could see his compassion but it only made it hurt more inside her that he was pitying her. “I’m fine. Thanks.” She wanted to smack the _shit_ out of him (SHIT) but she crossed her arms and kept walking. Peter chewed on his lips and played a million scenarios in his head.

                He stood outside when she went into the pharmacy to buy the pads. When she emerged from the pharmacy he put out his cigarette and walked close beside her.

                “Hey… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be getting in your business.” He chewed his lips some more. “Wanna grab a coke?”

                “No. I want to go back to the manor.” Jean spoke as coldly as she could and felt instant guilt as it stung Peter. He never knew how to feel about anything but he was really good at feeling bad and she felt wrong for exacerbating that but… she was hurt.

                An injured animal will bite. She felt like a fox in a trap.

                Peter kept chewing his lips (which were now split and bleeding a little) and scratching his chin and nervously moving as they made their way back towards the manor.

                It came into view over the hill top. It looked like a few students were outside. She noticed Scott playing badminton with Kurt. Kurt was playing it like tennis. Suddenly the light in her head was anxious.

                Her eyelids were sweating. Her knees collapsed.

                She was on the ground and Peter was looking down at her, alarmed, in blurry, muddled colour.

                She felt like she was flying but it was Peter using his mutation. The sensation lasted a moment and she was in Hank’s infirmary.

                Hank turned around and dropped a can of coke. “Shit, Peter, don’t do that—Jean!”

                He helped Peter lower her onto the examination table.

                “She fainted,” Peter said. His entire brain was on fire with fear and alarm. His face was still.

                “Yeah, I can see that. Thanks, Pete, you can leave.” Hank put a stethoscope to her chest, just barely inside the collar of her shirt. It felt cold and the cold was relieving. “This is the second time this has happened recently, Jean. What’s up.” He crossed his arms and stared at her.

                “I don’t know,” she replied, coolly.

                Hank grumbled and pulled an apple and some biscuits out of his cabinet and handed them to Jean. Then he grabbed a juicebox and gave that to her, too. “Have you eaten today?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Okay, when was that?” He pushed up his glasses with his index finger.

                “Breakfast.”

                “Yeah, it’s four o’clock in the afternoon, Jean. You’re supposed to have had another meal by now.” He was genuinely annoyed and concerned. “Where were you during lunch?”

                “I went into town with Peter to buy some pads for my menstruation.” She could see that instantly made him uncomfortable and she loved it. The glow in the back of her head twinkled.

                “Oh, er.” Hank pulled out a notepad and began writing. “Are you on your menses right now?”

                “No,” said Jean.

                He crossed his arms. “Okay, then why did you do that.”

                “Well it was supposed to be here by now but I guess it’s late.” She shrugged but irrationally felt like crying. “Probably all the stress from, you know, you getting the man I—my _boyfriend_ —expelled from the school.”

                Hank gritted his teeth but maintained his cool. “You can’t expel an adult from school for children.”

                “Then why the heck is Peter here?” She set her jaw.

                “Peter’s just _barely_ an adult and due to his delinquent past he barely has an education.” Hank met her gaze. “He’s not, you know, significantly older than you.”

                Tears started to form and Hank’s heart broke.

                “Jean.” He put a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away. He didn’t force the issue. “I know this has to be really hard for you.”

                “Then why did you do it!?” She was shrieking and the tears actually overflowed her eyes.

                “Jean, I—he _is_ older than you, okay? And I know you’re almost an adult but it’s a dangerous standard to set.”

                “So I can go into combat situations and help the _X-men_ but I can’t have a boyfriend, is that what you’re saying? I’m an adult when it’s _convenient_ and useful to you and the professor but when I dare to have my own life I’m suddenly a child that needs protection?” She was livid. She could see what he was thinking but she purposefully ignored it.

                He started to talk but stopped himself. He looked at the ceiling, licked his lips, and crossed his arms tighter.

                Good, so that meant she’d won.

                He still wasn’t going to bring Alex back, though. And the blocks the professor had set up to the location were still in full effect. If she could concentrate she could probably break them, or at least interpret the data slipping through to see past them, but she couldn’t concentrate. The glow was agitated and she tried to relax.

                “Come back in two days if your menses still haven’t started and we’ll do some tests to make sure everything’s all right.” Hank’s stomach flipped but she wasn’t sure why. Why couldn’t she build up the energy for any insight?

                “Fine.” She took the apple, biscuits, and juicebox and left.

* * *

 

                She actually managed to avoid Hank for an entire week before he finally pulled her aside after a Monday breakfast.

                “Jean,” he spoke quietly and carefully. “Have you started your… you know, menses yet?”

                In the past week the glow had become brighter, but Jean still wasn’t bleeding.

                “No,” she said. “Maybe if you’d stop watching my every move it would happen.” She knew she was being insolent and she immediately felt guilty. What had she become lately? She barely recognized herself.

                Hank started pushing her towards his office. “Okay, I’m going to do some bloodwork.”

                Jean hated getting blood taken. Needles scared her and seeing the blood was awful after what she’d experienced herself and experience through the eyes and lives of others. She looked away but through Hank’s eyes she could still see it.

                Confusion was radiating from the glow. It had started communicating more with her. Not in language, it didn’t appear to have any language, but at three o’clock in the morning it would greet her whilst she still slept. It would mix into her dreams in an amorphous and beautiful way. The Sun would be brighter (increased by the light), the world would be golden (influenced by the light), and things seemed deeper—like she could move beyond time or that some part of her was existing outside of time.

                “Okay, thanks.” Hank pulled the needle out and put a band-aid on the site. “I’m going to run some tests and… barring someone getting injured in Erik’s class, I’ll probably have the results for us to discuss tomorrow.”

                “Okay,” she said.

                “How are you feeling?” He was trying to look sympathetic. He was sympathetic but the fact that he had to make an effort to look sympathetic always irked her.

                “I’m fine.” She really didn’t want to talk to him.

                “Any more fainting?”

                She’d nearly fainted a couple of times but hadn’t completely blacked out. She was dizzy getting out of chairs. She would have to sit on the floor of the shower to wash. She’d been trying to go easy in PE but that usually meant getting hurt if Mr Lehnsherr was teaching (some of the new students had a lot of aggression they needed to deal with). She’d been sleeping so heavily but would still wakeup from the glow’s bright “good mornings”. She was nauseous sometimes, too, which was awful but it didn’t feel like a stomach flu.

                “No.”

                Hank sighed. “Okay, well, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. Just know my door is always open.” It wasn’t. There was a permanent curtain between Hank and her and he had no intention of dismantling it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wo gehst di" -- where are you going (Yiddish, Galitzianer dialect)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more. Skipped a week. Sorry sometimes phrasing is strange. I am bilingual (actually multilingual but fluent bilingual) and I know some words maybe have slightly different meaning in English. Sorry I hope it's decipherable.

Jubilee and she hung out that night in the kitchen. Jean made cups of tea and Jubilee made popcorn (she was really good at making stove-top popcorn). They curled up by the fireplace and made cootie-catchers together and listened to the radio.

                “So, in my smut book,” Jubilee said. “The guy in it has sex with two girls at the same time.”

                “That’s… how does that work?” Jean ate popcorn by picking up a piece at a time while Jubilee would take a handful and throw it in her mouth.

                “Okay so I’ve not got so far into that scene but so far it involves one of them having him, you know, _inside_ her and the other one has her boobs in his face.” Jubilee’s face was scrunched up, trying to remember.

                “That sounds uncomfortable.” Jean took a sip of her tea. “Also sounds like one of those girls isn’t getting anything from this.”

                “I would argue that _both_ of them aren’t getting anything from this.” Jubilee cackled. “But the writer—a guy, obviously—seems to think that they’re both loving it.”

                “Ew,” Jean said.

                “Do you think any of the guys at the school are cute?” Jubilee had a sneaky look on her face.

                “Well, obviously Alex was. I don’t know. The rest of them honestly feel like older brothers or younger brothers to me.” Jean shrugged.

                “I would ask you to ask me who I think is cute but you can read minds so there’s no point.” Jubilee wiggled her eyebrows. “Mr. Lehnsherr.”

                Jean groaned. “Jubilee… he’s way older than you. That’s creepy.”

                “Have you seen him in sweatpants?” Jubilee’s mind was like explicit fireworks.

                “Ew, gross, stop it.” Jean shoved her shoulder and Jubilee giggled. “He’s so much older than you. Plus he’s Peter’s dad, so that makes it really weird. Like his kid is older than you.”

                Jubilee giggled some more. “Does he ever notice me? You can see his mind, does he ever notice me?”

                Jean paused. The Professor had told her expressly not to look into Mr. Lehnsherr’s mind.

                “He’s… well, he’s lived through some things that no person should ever have to endure and seen and experienced things that I never want you to see or experience.” The Professor had tried to obscure it from his own mind whilst telling her.

                She understood. Mr. Lehnsherr was a Holocaust survivor. He was also a terrorist. It was hard for her not look, though. It held a sort of horrible intrigue. She was drawn to his mind at the same time what she found there nauseated her. He’d experienced both unimaginable joy and devastating loss and pain. He seemed to experience both on the daily.

                One thing was certain, however: he did not notice Jubilee. He definitely did not notice her in a sexual way.

                “I don’t think he… I don’t think so, Jubes.” Jean tried to say it gently.

                Jubilee frowned. “What should I do to make him notice me?”

                Jean kind of wanted to smack her. “Nothing, Jubilee. He’s old enough to be your dad.”

                “Okay, so you can screw an older guy but I can’t?”

                Jean didn’t want to dignify that with a response, but it hurt. Alex wasn’t that much older than them. He was older but he wasn’t older like the Professor or Mr. Lehnsherr who could’ve been their parents. He was younger than Hank. It was also something she never thought about when they’d been together. He wasn’t taking advantage. He wasn’t with her because she had less clout than him. He loved her. She could see it in his mind and she could feel it in his touch. Her stomach turned at the memory of that touch and how she might never experience it again.

* * *

 

                Hank didn’t wait for her to wake up to give her her test results. He’d barged into her and Jubilee’s shared room and she awoke to him shaking her shoulder roughly. The glow had let her sleep for once and this was pretty annoying.

                “What?” she didn’t bother trying to be nice.

                “Come to my office right now.” Hank said. Then he left the room.

                Jubilee was staring at her. Jean glanced over at the alarm clock and saw that it was barely five in the morning.

She slipped a sweatshirt over her nightgown and walked barefoot to Hank’s office.

She could sense the Professor was inside with Hank before her hand touched the doorknob and she was almost tempted to return to her room. The glow was awake and it was unlikely she’d be getting any more sleep. She pulled open the door.

“Jean.” The Professor immediately started talking without bothering to greet her. “I’d sensed it but I was hoping I was mistaken. This is serious and we need to talk about your options.”

She was pregnant. She saw it in both of their minds and disbelief shocked her system. The glow blazed at the alarm she experienced. She was worried she might faint and steadied herself against the examination table.

“Jean, you’re pregnant.” Hank placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her one of his fake sympathetic looks.

“What do you mean you sensed it?” She looked at the Professor.

“You sense it too, Jean. The birth of a mind: a light that grows brighter, a blank slate.” Metaphors continued in his mind. A field of fresh snow. A sunrise.

The glow. Her eyes filled with tears. She’d thought she might have been losing her mind or under threat… but she’d known it was something good. It didn’t have any kind of identity. It was something wholly pure and bright. It loved without reservation or complication and she’d reciprocated that love without knowing its source or origin.

“You’re young,” the Professor said. “And this shouldn’t have happened. You don’t have to have this child. If you are afraid or have even a little doubt, Jean, it’s okay to not follow through. What I’m saying it, we can find a doctor for you. There are ways to stop pregnancies.”

“No.” The word dripped out of Jean’s mouth but she meant it from her stomach to her head. “I want it.”

The Professor sighed and scratched his brow. He was purposely unreadable. “Then we respect that. But Jean, you know caring for a child is no easy task. But… yes, we respect your choice. I’ll see if… I don’t know, maybe Moira can come in and talk to you about this or give you some advice.”

“Oh, so _now_ I have a choice.” She’d gone from numb to burning hot. “I’m an adult and can make a decision about this but I can’t make a decision about who I date.”

The Professor’s lips narrowed. “That’s already been discussed. And yes, you do get to make a decision here because to choose for you would be a violation of your physical autonomy, you know, the way allowing a much older man to have sex with you would be.”

“Professor.” She didn’t like using his title but saying his name was unnatural in her mouth. “You could see into him just as much as I could and you could see his love and his pain and how much sending him away was killing him and you know, you know he loved me. And you know I love him. How is that love wrong? I _am_ an adult and I _have_ seen things through the minds of others that other people my age never see. And I chose to be with him. He didn’t force himself on me. To say that he did is slanderous and just… cruel.”

“Jean.” The Professor was tired. “That decision isn’t up for debate.”

The room was quiet for a moment.

Hank spoke: “I’ll take you to see an obstetrician in a couple of days so we can get a better understanding of how the pregnancy is progressing and its health. Jean.” He glanced at the Professor. “We’re not going to talk to anyone about this, but eventually it’s going to become obvious. If you experience any kind of bullying or shaming for what’s going on, let us know.”

“Thanks.” She wanted to fight the Professor and she knew that he knew she wanted to fight him.

He met her gaze. “Get some rest.”

* * *

 

                Jubilee was still awake when she returned to their room and immediately wanted to know what was going on. The shock of the revelation returned to Jean and before she could stop herself, she’d told Jubilee the truth.

                “Holy shit!” Jubilee spoke way too loudly and covered her mouth before switching to a whisper: “From Alex?”

                “Yes, Jubes, from Alex, who else would I be pregnant from?”

                Jubilee shrugged. “I mean, you are Catholic so I don’t know maybe God?”

                Jean glared at her and Jubilee’s face split into a grin.

                “I’m godmother, right? Please tell me I’m godmother.” Jubilee was genuinely happy. She wasn’t worried. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t judging Jean. She was excited and she wanted to be there for her friend. Jean wanted to cry from gratitude and felt the glow kiss her brain.

                “Come here.” Jubilee got up from her bed and pulled Jean into a tight hug. “I love you and I’m so happy for you.” She let go of Jean but stayed smiling. “Also, weird, Scott is going to be an _uncle_.”

                Scott. Jean hadn’t thought about him. She knew he liked her. This would be devastating to him.

                “Scott… is not going to like this.” Jean said slowly.

                Jubilee rubbed his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell him until you have to.”

                Jean wished she could turn off guilt. She didn’t know why it made her stomach hurt so much. She didn’t owe Scott anything. But she could feel his pain and knew this would hurt him so much.

                Jubilee was right. She would wait to tell him.

* * *

 

                Friday night Scott wanted to make up for lost time and hit up the roadhouse with them.

                “It’s not fair,” said Scott. “I had homework last time youse guys went and I missed out on all the excitement.”

                Peter sucked in smoke from his cigarette and shook off some ash. They were hanging out by the stables again and it was a soupy hot day. Everyone was sweating. Jubilee was drinking some Sunny Delight and being watched by a tempted bee.

                “Yeah, but that was, you know, your fault.” Peter took another drag. “You decided to be, you know, a good person and we all decided to have fun.”

                “If we go out… won’t people recognize me?” Kurt looked at Jean. “Or maybe they would recognize the rest of you and remember me? Wouldn’t it be a problem?” Kurt was embarrassed. “We could go somewhere else? I think there is a dinner outside of the village.”

                “I think you mean ‘diner’,” said Scott. “And Westchester’s not a _village_ …. I don’t know, Jean. Do you think it’d be a problem?”

                People had been pretty shaken at the roadhouse by her slip but she wouldn’t be distracted by Alex this time so maybe it was worth the risk. She shrugged: “I think we could try the roadhouse again.”

                Scott smiled at her and she could see the lens through which he saw her.

                Peter dropped his cigarette and smushed it into the dirt. “Fine.”

                They slipped out after dinner. Mr Lehnsherr made Peter stay back a few minutes before the sun set to light candles and drink wine (part of their Sabbath ritual). The rest of the group waited by the stables until Peter shuffled out of the manor and joined them in the wink of an eye.

                There were mosquitos out and Kurt kept getting bit. Jubilee interrogated Peter about more sections of her smut book. Scott walked next to Jean so close that his knuckles brushed against hers and he felt that directly in his briefs.

                The walk to the roadhouse seemed quicker this time and Jean kept remembering walking with Alex and then she made herself stop remembering. It hurt too much. The glow shuddered from the sadness.

                It was less crowded than it had been on Independence Day and there was no band playing, only a jukebox churning out overplayed songs from ten years ago. The same Barmaid was serving and her makeup was still garish.

                Jubilee found them a table in the corner and Peter ordered everyone drinks.

                With much less people it was much less of a strain on Jean to conceal Kurt. It was actually nice to have something else to focus on. Every time she saw someone shift on the dancefloor her heart leapt.

                “So, how’re you doing?” Peter said to Scott after he’d successfully arranged everyone’s beers on the table.

                “How do you think I’m doing?” Scott shot back. Jean saw guilt immediately flare up in his head. “I’m sorry, Peter…. Yeah, I’m not doing great. I miss him a lot.”

                “I definitely miss him in PE class,” Kurt said. “Your dad is scary.” He looked at Peter.

                “Yeah, well, I miss him because he’s my brother.” Scott downed about half of his beer in one gulp.

                He missed Alex and it felt typical to him that Alex would be gone just when they were getting close again. His brother had been on again off again absent a lot of his life. He remembered needing him so much after the loss of their parents. He felt gutted without him now.

                Instinctively, Jean wanted to comfort him, but something inside her held her back. There was something about the way that Scott assumed that people should be there for him that always made her feel uneasy. It was in the way he thought about her: he was attracted to her, yet afraid of her. Embarrassed by her, but simultaneously thinking he deserved her and resented her for not being with him already. Alex’s life had been difficult and so had Scott’s, but Alex had done the best he could for his younger brother. Scott saw parts of that, but not all of it.

                They were all sitting in silence. Peter was thinking about patting Scott on the shoulder but was also second guessing that action. He didn’t want Scott to feel uncomfortable.

                “What’s a sex swing?” Jubilee took a sip from her beer and looked at Peter.

                “I told you, I’m not telling you any of this stuff.” Peter rolled his eyes.

                “I know what that is,” said Kurt, happy to break to a less depressing topic. “One of the women, one of the acrobats, in my circus used one. When I was in trouble they’d make me clean it as a punishment. It was disgusting and slimy.”

                Peter grimaced. “Thank you, Kurt.”

                Kurt shrugged.

                After a couple of moments, Scott got up and walked over to the jukebox. He put in some coins and flipped through the record selection until he found what he was looking for. He walked back over to their table as a Leslie Gore song started playing.

                Peter opened his mouth to speak but Kurt cut in first: “Jubilee, let’s do the dirty boogie. I learnt it from an American spy.”

                Jubilee cackled and followed Kurt to the dance floor. Peter deflated.

                “Jean?” Scott tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around. “Wanna dance?”

                Guilt and hunger mixed in her stomach. “Sure.”

                She took his hand and he pulled her into a surprisingly deft two-step. He wasn’t actually watching his feet and he led her well. Holding her hands in his made his breath feel constricted and his eyes feel bright.

                They didn’t talk whilst dancing until they caught sight of the dance Kurt and Jubilee were doing together.

                “What the hell?” Scott cursed under his breath and Jean giggled and blushed. “That’s disgusting. Ugh. Why is Kurt like this? Why is she like this?”

                “They’re just goofing around.” Jean shrugged and smiled. “It actually looks kind of fun.” She imagined doing it with Alex and felt her cheeks grow warmer.

                Scott imagined something else. He imagined touching Jean’s bare skin and kissing her neck like the guys did in movies he wasn’t supposed to watch. He mentally checked himself from thinking about it too much or he’d get hard. Jean hated sometimes that she could see inside people’s minds. She knew Scott would be embarrassed if he’d known she’d seen it. He knew she could see inside but he, and most people at the school, were in denial about how much she could see. She could see everything.

                Except, of course, what the Professor concealed from her.

                “What are you thinking about?” Scott was thinking about how far away and dreamy her eyes looked.

                “Nothing, really.” She looked back at him and smiled. “Let’s go back to Peter before he dies from loneliness.”

                She turned to walk back to the table when Scott pulled on her hand and turned her to face him. He was stealing himself.

                “Jean…,” his voice trailed. He reached a hand forward and cupped her face before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

                She pulled back and immediately felt the pain that caused him. “I can’t right now, Scott.” She mentally scanned to make sure Jubilee, Kurt, or Peter hadn’t seen. They hadn’t. “I’m not… I’m not ready.”

                Scott’s breath caught in his throat and he managed a strangled: “Fine.”

                She looked at him and he ducked his head in embarrassment before heading to the bathroom. She walked back over to the table feeling winded. The glow seemed to always respond to her emotional distress. It would try, non-verbally and non-experientially, to comfort her. It was pure love and goodness and its mere presence was a salve on her wounds.

                Peter was playing with his beer bottle with his lips and looking at nothing.

                Jean slid back into her chair. She didn’t know what to say and she didn’t want to talk. She focused on disguising Kurt. She wished she could be back in her bed right at that moment and never have to see anyone again. The glow kissed her.

                “Are Kurt and Jubilee together?” Peter asked. He said it as nonchalantly as he could manage but Jean could sense the edge behind it.

                “Ew, no.” Jean said.

                She was about 110% certain that Kurt was not remotely interested in having sex with women, regardless of how awesome they may or may not be. She wasn’t going to tell Peter that, though. It wasn’t her business to tell. Even though she knew it wouldn’t _actually_ bother Peter. But if Peter told Scott it would bother Scott. Scott. Alex. And she felt numb again.  

                Jubilee plopped down into her seat. “Guys, I think I’m pregnant. Kurt got me pregnant doing that dance.”

                Jean didn’t actually connect what Jubilee had said to her but Jubilee did and immediately shot her an apologetic look.

                “You all would have cute kids,” said Peter, hating himself.

                “Haha, NO.” Kurt slipped into his seat. “It’s just a dance. A filthy, filthy American dance.”

                Scott rejoined them sullenly. He wasn’t looking at Jean and wouldn’t look at her. He wanted to be mad at her but he also didn’t want to feel anything. He pulled from his beer.

                “Jean, do you want to dance?” Peter asked, thinking anyone else would notice or care.

                “No, I’m actually not feeling great. Can we go back to the school?” She felt bad shutting him down but Peter simply shrugged and it didn’t upset him.

                It felt like a waste of an evening. Fresh in Jean, Peter, Jubilee, and Kurt’s minds were the memories of the glittering and exhilarating night shared together. Scott felt like shit and didn’t want to talk to anyone. Kurt was the only one who seemed to be enjoying himself to any real degree and even his enjoyment was dampened but the lack of grand finale like there’d been for Independence Day.

                They got back to the school and it was barely half past eleven. They sneaked in through the kitchen, but the sneaking was pointless since Mr. Lehnsherr was in there snacking on bread.

                “Hi, dad.” Peter grimaced as he shuffled through the door.

                Mr. Lehnsherr rolled his eyes, kissed Peter on the forehead, pressed some bread into his hands and left the kitchen.

                Scott was agitated: “Is he going to tell on us?”

                Peter took a bite from the bread. “Yeah, no. He caught us last time and said he didn’t care then either.”

                Jean looked at Peter. “He’s worried about you leaving the house without a sweater.”

                That got a laugh out of Scott. “Man, you’re so lucky to have a dad. I miss that kind of stuff.”

                Peter wanted to say, “You have a dad, he’s just dead,” but managed to stop himself in time and just patted Scott on the shoulder instead.

                They played blackjack for another hour by the kitchen fireplace. It was actually more fun and less stressful than any of the time spent at the roadhouse that evening. Peter continued to raise Scott’s spirits and by the end of the game he was red in the cheeks from laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

The trimester passed without incident. Scott successfully avoided her for much of it, which was fine by her since she wouldn’t have to explain anything to him if he wasn’t around. The nausea and fainting were eventually replaced with crushing fatigue and insatiable hunger. The leaves on the trees were vibrant and desiccating on their branches. It was hard for Jean to get herself to spend any time outside when it was already so cold.

                The Halloween party was not as awful as she expected it would be.

                Jubilee wore a French maid costume that got her a lot of angry looks from Hank but she got away with it. Jean wore a little witch costume that was comprised of a black dress and a pointed hat.

                “I’m Andy Warhol.” Peter explained for the millionth time. “He’s an artist… he has white hair… I have white hair…”

                “You really look nothing like him.” Jubilee covered her mouth to laugh. “You should’ve gone as Speedy Gonzales, you know, because you’re _fast_?”

                Hank was drinking a spiked plastic cup of punch. He kept adding more vodka to it from a small flask concealed in his inside pocket. Student events always put him on edge.

                Through careful investigation and nights of endless crying Jean had failed to find any information about Alex’s whereabouts. It sucked. What sucked more was knowing that Alex knew exactly where _she_ was and had done nothing—as far as she knew—to contact her. Jean knew he loved her. She’d seen it written all over his brain. His love for her expanded his heart and slipped through his veins to every inch of his body. It was in his every inch. In every mote of time that passed whilst they lived together in the same timeline. It transcended everything.

                And it had resulted in an ever-growing light that illuminated the back of her mind. The glow had continued to mature. The world was becoming more tangible to it. The love stayed pure. The essence stayed pure. When she would lie in bed at night she would run her hands over her abdomen and mentally sing to it the beautiful lullabies her mother used to sing to her. When she laughed at a joke or ate something particularly delicious, it would frolic across her brain. Her heart never grew sore from loving it and her mind never tired of its presence.

                The Professor wasn’t drinking, of course. He couldn’t risk Jean breaking into his mind and finding the love of her life. No, that would be a _bad_ thing, apparently. When he drank he couldn’t just have one drink, anyway. It was either sober or sloshed with him. He was dressed as a vampire (which just meant fake teeth and his collar turned up) and openly staring at Mr. Lehnsherr who was on his fifth martini and not wearing a costume.

                A golden memory flickered to life behind his left ear and Jean dove into it immediately—what if this involved Alex?

  1. His first night out recruiting mutants with Mr. Lehnsherr—Erik. They were at a sailor’s bar in Annapolis and talking about football.



                “It’s really a shame the Yanks don’t get it.” The Professor—Charles—was already smashed and instead of taking a drink like a normal person he stuck his tongue into his whisky sour and let the proof burn his tongue.

                “Aren’t you a Yank, technically?” Erik smirked and sucked the olive out of his martini.

                “Aren’t you a German, technically?” Charles thought it was clever before he said it but the moment it left his mouth he regretted it.

                Erik’s face darkened and some never-nascent rage ignited in the back of his head. “I reckon Germany made a choice on that one.” His jaw set and he sipped his martini. “Also, fuck you.”

                “Fuck you.” Charles shrugged and slurped on the whisky. “What do you think of Moira?”

                “I think her hips are too narrow,” Erik said, lazily. “But if that sort of thing interests you, then by all means. I won’t be getting in your way.”

                “You like them curvaceous, child-bearing?” Charles laughed and then choked on his whisky.

                Erik knee brushed Charles’ thigh and Charles immediately felt sweet and sore.

                “You like men?” Erik had lowered his voice to say it but Charles immediately panicked hearing it said out loud.

                “Shut up.” Charles sneered and downed the rest of his whisky.

                Erik’s smile was mischievous. He turned to the barman: “Bottle of white wine, please. I’ll be taking it up to our room.” The room they’d booked was directly above the bar, which Charles now saw as a mistake because this place was raucous and didn’t show any sign of letting up anytime soon.

                “Make that Champagne,” Charles interjected.

                The barman passed him a bottle. “Going on your tab.”

                “Cheers.” Charles grinned.

                They pushed through the sailors and their companions to the outside. The air was crisp and there was a lady of the night giving head to a sailor behind a pile of rubbish.

                Erik climbed the fire escape two steps at a time and climbed into their room through the window. Charles followed suit, feeling dizzy from the height.

                “You want to get drunk and pass out?” Charles righted himself from climbing through the window and opened the Champagne expertly. He poured two glasses in the tumblers provided by the hotelier.

                Erik pulled off his shoes and socks and grabbed the bottle out of Charles hands. His eyes twinkled and Charles found his brain was a delightful fog from drinking. His smile was brighter, his teeth whiter, and his humour sat in the corners of his mouth.

                Erik dropped to his knees and opened his mouth, holding the Champagne bottle level with his lips. Then he pushed the bottle into his mouth and started playing with it with his teeth and tongue whilst Champagne poured down his throat. He pushed the bottle further in so he was fellating the neck and the pouring Champagne straight down his gullet. The hand not holding the bottle reached into his trousers and began pleasuring himself.

                Charles was frozen holding the tumblers of Champagne and leaning against the radiator by the window. Painfully aroused and his entire face and cheekbones burning and the air left his mouth hot.

                Jean extracted herself from the memory feeling sick. This was what the Professor was talking about when he said some things she shouldn’t be seeing. She could sense from the reflections around the memory that this wasn’t the only time this had occurred. Nearby sat a memory of Erik—Mr. Lehnsherr—and him screwing by the fireplace nearby to where she currently stood.

                A lot of drunkenness. A lot of sex. A lot of Charles—the Professor—having use of his legs. A lot of records on the turntable and the crushing threat of a nuclear apocalypse. They could die at any moment so there was no reason to stop their love—consequences don’t exist when you’re dying tomorrow.

                The Professor watched Mr. Lehnsherr and Mr. Lehnsherr knew he was watching. He cast a warm glance at the Professor and gave a shy and knowing smile. The Professor’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled back.

                Hank was pretty trashed. He was also pretty annoyed. He didn’t like chaperoning these kind of events which made him profoundly anxious. His veil slipped and with it slipped the Professor’s block. Jean leapt at the opportunity and slipped inside.

* * *

 

Berlin, New Hampshire.

                They were about 30 miles out.

                “You know this is wrong,” Alex said. Since this was Hank’s memory she couldn’t see inside Alex’s head but she could sense the hurt in his voice.

                “No, I don’t. I agree with Charles, this sets a dangerous precedent.” Hank kept his eyes glued on the road. He wouldn’t look at Alex but he was remembering all the years of friendship they’d shared together. If he focused on the road he didn’t have to feel.

                “Oh really? So it didn’t set a _dangerous precedent_ when Erik fucked Angel? ‘Cause that girl was barely 18 and Charles was in the room when it happened. And it happened a couple of times at the fucking CIA headquarters. Or how about when Erik fucked Raven?” Hank caught a glimpse of Alex’s white knuckles. “All this is okay if Erik does it? Or how about actually a _teenage_ me walking in on Erik blowing Charles in the fucking living room and then being offered fucking grass? All of that didn’t set a precedent but me engaging in a relationship does because it’s Charles favorite student and not his slutty boyfriend?”

                “Don’t talk about Charles that way.” Hank’s voice was even and he kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have been exposed to that stuff. You were too young. And it wasn’t right. But this is a school now and not a rag-tag band of mutants.”

                “Again, I was a teenager. Not like a 17 or 18 year old teenager. Like a just-past middle-school teenager.”

                “And I’m saying you’re right, that was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened.”

                “But we’re not going to do anything about _that_ , even though _that_ was actually damaging and _this_ wasn’t.”

                “What would you have happen, Alex? Get rid of Erik? So, what, he can go terrorist on everyone again? I think Charles would rather keep an eye on him if it’s all the same to you.”

                “Yeah, that, and he wants to fuck him. Again. I get it. I’ve known Charles just as long but because I can’t deep-throat I’m disposable.”

                “Shut the fuck up.” Hank had anger bubbling inside him but tried to calm it with a sip of coffee.

                “Just as long as we’re clear that this isn’t fair, then fine, I’ll shut up.” Alex’s tone was sarcastic and it agitated Hank more.

                “Just shut the fuck up.” Hank was doing everything to control his anger. Everything the professor had taught him. He would be a disaster without the professor’s guidance. Alex had been his friend since the sixties and it hurt to have to expel him like this.

                “I actually care about her, you know that, right?” Alex’s voice was bitter and Jean’s heart leapt inside the memory.

                “I know that you know that that’s wrong.” Hank inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I’m leaving you in Berlin. I’ll get you dinner and then you’re on your own.”

                “Of course I fucking am. And so is my brother. Because you realise you’re separating us, too, right? You know, after our parents fucking died. But no, he stays with the Professor because that makes fucking sense.”

                The hair on Hank’s arms was standing up. “We’ll take good care of Scott. I promise.”

                “Yeah sure.”

                “You know you’re my best friend after the Professor.”

                “Yeah I can see that.”

                They drove in silence and the memory elapsed quickly in the time of transit. The radio played Hank Williams and Hank’s heart longed for the pleasant trips shared between him and Alex. He wanted that time back. It hurt that this was quite possibly the end of it.

                They arrived in Berlin. Hank stopped at a diner opposite an hotel that looked at least a hundred years old. The over the hotel’s door was muddled in Hank’s memory. It said “the sailor and the…” and the rest was a jumble of letters. The diner was called “Betty’s”.

                Inside the diner looked about thirty years out of date. Hank and Alex sat down at a booth and ordered coffee. Hank remembered the sadness in Alex’s eyes and the sweat on the back of his neck. He would miss his friend.

                “Jean?”

                It wasn’t startling but the entire memory dissipated and she was standing next to Kurt. Hank was drinking his spiked punch. The Professor hadn’t noticed what had transpired. Scott was standing next to Kurt and looking at her.

                “You okay?” He asked.

                He was genuinely concerned but Jean’s entire mind was buzzing. She knew where Alex was. The glow was doing backflips of joy in the back of her head and she couldn’t help a broad smile from spreading across her face.

                “Yeah,” she said. “I’m great.”

                Scott looked perplexed and Kurt rolled his eyes.

                “You’re such a space case.” Kurt had learnt the expression from one of the newer students and wouldn’t stop using it.

                Jean looked around and found Jubilee dancing somewhat dirty against a delighted looking freshman. She tried not to attract attention cutting across the room to her. Even if people did look at her she could just turn their minds from her. She reached Jubilee and pulled her into a corner.

                “What the hell?” Jubilee spluttered. “I was having fun!” She saw Jean’s expression and immediately switched: “What’s up?”

                “I know where Alex is!” Jean whispered it but couldn’t hide her excitement.

                “Woah, what? How’d you find that out?” Jubilee’s face lit up. “Does this mean another jailbreak?—school break, whatever?”

                “It might. I’d need to find a way to keep the professor from catching on. I’m going to put some guards up in your head—in you mind—to keep him from seeing what you know.”

                Jubilee grimaced. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

                Jean established some fine, unnoticeable barriers that resembled beaded curtains. Jubilee didn’t notice any change. Jean smiled at her: “It’s already done.”

                “Damn,” Jubilee grinned toothily. “You’re so good at this stuff. My mutation is so weird and visible like… I wish I could be sneaky like you.”

                Jean winked: “You’ll learn.”

                After hugging Jubilee and ensuring the Professor was still distracted exchanging glances with Mr Lehnsherr and feeling sleepy (not suspicious of her) Jean slipped back to her and Jubilee’s shared room.

                She slipped out of her witch costume and pulled out a small overnight case. Her heart was speeding and her breath was fast. The anticipation was all the way through her arms and her fingertips. She threw in a pair of lace panties, a sweatshirt, and some extra socks. She also tossed in an extra deodorant. She didn’t know when she’d have the opportunity to escape without the Professor seeking her out but she needed to be prepared for when she could.

                Something itched at the back of her mind. It wasn’t the glow but she could feel something intense. She relaxed her shoulders, closed her eyes, and let her mind follow the itch.

                She immediately regretted it.

                It was Jubilee and she was naked, but in a weirdly vague way, like she couldn’t make out anything specific about her body except it looked good. The whole thing was very urgent and jittery.

                Where is this coming from? The source was ambiguous and not focusing on themselves. They were an observer. But they were an avid observer.

                The whole thing felt uncomfortable and made her skin crawl. She left her room and looked down the hallway. It was coming from… Alex’s room?

                She pushed the door open but the room was empty.

                It still smelled like him.

                She managed to tone down the explicit images enough to actually feel what she was feeling and it hurt. She remembered she would see him again and it made her stomach seem less empty.

                She took a moment to run her fingers over the bed spread and allow the warmth of her own memories to overpower her. She wished he were here with her now. She wanted the pair of them to fall back onto that bedspread and cuddle the rest of the night together. That she knew where Alex was gave her hope and she could feel the glow respond to her feelings.

                Now what was up with this creepiness? She was definitely getting closer to whoever what thinking this stuff and felt her stomach flip as the images came back full force. Whoever it was couldn’t decide how they wanted Jubilee and was mentally changing positions every split second. It was dizzying and somewhat nauseating. Her French maid outfit kept winking in and out of existence.

                She pushed open the door to the shared bathroom and a shriek emitted from her mouth as her eyes registered what the was seeing.

                Peter. Jacking it. To mental images of Jubilee.

                He screamed seeing her too. And in a moment he was fully dressed (though still visibly aroused) and pushing her out of the bathroom.

                “What the fuck are you doing here?” Peter’s voice sounded weirdly rough and high pitched and he looked like he was about to start crying. He was painfully embarrassed. The situation was so uncomfortable that she didn’t even notice his profanity.

                “What are _you_ doing?” She hissed. “Why are you thinking about Jubilee like that you… pervert!”

                Peter groaned. “You know what I was doing, okay? Don’t play dumb with me, miss ‘secretly-sleeping-with-a-teacher’!” He was actually crying now.

                “Okay.” She looked him dead in the eye. “I’m telling Jubilee.”

                “NO.” He grabbed her arm and she pulled back remembering where those hands had been literally seconds before. “Sorry.” He wiped his hands on his shirt. “Please, please don’t tell Jubilee.” He didn’t appear to notice how much he was crying.

                “No. She’s my best friend. I’m telling her.” Jean crossed her arms and made sure to stand far enough away that Peter wouldn’t grab for her again. “Unless….”

                “What?” Peter’s eyes brightened. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Please, Jubilee can’t know.”

                Jean had every intention of telling Jubilee but she could also feel Peter’s extreme embarrassment. If she didn’t have her mutation, there was no reason why she would have found him. She had also seen the way he acted around Jubilee. He really did care about her. And he really was embarrassed.

                “Peter… I know where Alex is.”

                Peter looked confused. “What… Jean what does that have to do with _this_?” His expression softened and he reached out to touch her shoulder which she jerked away from him. He wiped his hands on his shirt again and didn’t meet her eye. “I’m sorry, Jean… I know you must, I don’t know… do you miss him? Okay, you probably miss him. Well, I doubt the Professor would want us to, you know, go see him.”

                “Yeah, you’re not going to tell the Professor.”

                Peter groaned and leaned against the doorframe. “Jean, it doesn’t matter if I tell him or not. He’s like you. Oh, G-d, he probably knows about this, too….”

                “Peter, I’m going to use my mutation to disguise the knowledge from him. And we’re not going to see him right now… but when the time is right.”

                “Yes, I’ll drive you.” Peter grinned nervously. “Jean, please go away.”

                She bit her lip and her chest expanded from the hope that she was nourishing inside. “Goodnight, Peter.”

* * *

 

                It was really difficult not telling Jubilee. The next day they had PE and Peter kept staring at Jean and Jubilee was noticing.

                “Why is he staring at you?” Jubilee was creeped out. “Your costume was _not_ sexy. You looked like you were wearing a trash bag, no offense.”

                “None taken,” Jean said. She was a little hurt by that, though.

                She and Jubilee had talked more about the information Jean had found in Hank’s memory the night before. Jubilee found the details about Mr Lehnsherr way too interesting so Jean stopped giving information on that front.

                “New Hampshire is like… Hicksville, right?” Had been Jubilee’s valuable contribution.

                “When will we be sneaking out?” She whispered to Jean, glaring at Peter. “Please tell me it’s sooner rather than later.”

                “What are you talking about?” Scott shuffled up beside them.

                “Sneaking out,” Jubilee said, coolly. “You’re not invited this time.”

                Jean really wished Jubilee hadn’t said that because it stung Scott a lot more than she’d intended.

                “No, you’re invited. We’re talking about the diner you wanted to go to. We’re just not sure when we’re going yet.” Jean said. Scott’s face and mind immediately lit up and Jean felt horrid.

                He was still hoping. Even after she rejected him. His heart was still broken from his brother leaving and he was latching on to anything. He already had such an intense crush on her. It was becoming stronger from his present unhappiness.

                She wanted to soothe him. She knew he was entitled and occasionally selfish but being able to read minds had taught her early on that everyone was flawed in one way or another. She didn’t want to lead him on, but she also hated how much her rejection hurt him. There was no way for her to win in this situation.

                Until she found a way to jailbreak without the Professor sending Hank on her tail, she supposed it wasn’t the worst thing to enjoy herself. And going to that diner would at least be a distraction.

                “We could go after midterms, if Mr Lehnsherr doesn’t kill us first.” Scott shot a glance over at a pair of mutants battling it out in front of their stand-in gym teacher. He was laughing and nodding in approval.

                “And then you wouldn’t have to skip out because you’re a nerd and prefer studying.” Jubilee stuck out her tongue at Scott.

                Peter kept staring and Jean glared at him. He looked away.

* * *

 

                Jean and Jubilee actually spent most of their spare time studying, but when they weren’t doing that they were discussing ways to distract the Professor.

                “Maybe we could convince Moira to bang him, that would distract him.” Jubilee chewed on her pencil and Jean gasped.

                “Jubilee that’s so rude!” Jean was annoyed at the Professor—actually extremely angry at him—but Jubilee’s crass comments still seemed cruel.

                “What? You told me he had a thing for her?” Jubilee shrugged. “Or I could bang him.”

                Jean punched her in the arm. “Stop it.” Jubilee was saying it as a joke.

                Jubilee rubbed out some of her really bad math work. “Well, I don’t have any other ideas. Barring some kind of global catastrophe—which you know we’ll probably get drawn up into as well—nothing seems to bother him enough to make him less omniscient.”

                And then, that night at dinner, Peter started sneezing.

                Peter and his dad had gone into town to go to services Saturday morning. Peter had slept through the weekend but by Monday what had started out as a tickle in his throat was a full blown flu.

                Dinner Monday night, Peter was sitting next to his dad and couldn’t stop sneezing. Mr Lehnsherr served him some soup and looked concerned but didn’t excuse Peter from the table until he’d sneezed on pretty much everything.

                A week later, everyone was sick.

                Hank made Jean wash her hands every five minutes and wear a mask over her mouth. It was working, she’d managed not to get sick. The same couldn’t be said for the Professor.

                He’d been in bed for the past three days and Jean hadn’t felt his presence since the day before. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, especially if he made a speedy recovery, but Jean felt like this could be the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

                Jubilee had caught the cold so she’d been put into Alex’s old room, a cruelty not lost on Hank who’d said “I’m sorry” approximately a hundred times helping her move in.

                Midterms had been postponed due to the outbreak and as she lay in bed that night she mentally scanned the school.

                Peter had recovered and was trying to fall asleep though his mind was going a million miles a minute, as usual. Jubilee had passed out from cold medicine. Hank was reading the smutty book he’d finally confiscated from Jubilee and cackling in his office, drinking whisky. The Professor was sleeping but not dreaming and his grasp on his mutation was weak. Even in sleep he worried constantly. Erik (Mr Lehnsherr) was sick and his immune system was compromised from years of starvation and torture… would he survive this cold? Would the students? – Jean was sure everyone would survive, but it touched her to see how much he cared.

                _His mutation was weak._ So this was her opportunity.

                She slipped out of bed and out of her pyjamas. She put on the sweatshirt she usually wore for gym class—the one with the school insignia on it—and a pair of worn out jeans. She made sure to wear some thick socks under her P F Flyers and grabbed a scarf and jacket.

                She walked into the shared bathroom and mentally checked that Peter wasn’t doing anything she didn’t want to walk in on. Her mutation kept her from being too naïve but she was still somewhat alarmed at just how often Peter masturbated. He did it in the shower. He did it in-between classes. He did it after dinner. Right now he was touching himself through his pyjamas but hadn’t got very into it yet, thank goodness.

                She pushed open the door and he sat up, bringing his knees to his chest.

                “Jean, please stop walking into my room. You should be getting as much sleep as possible so you don’t get sick.”

                “The Professor’s sick.” Jean crossed her arms and gave him a significant look.

                He didn’t pick up on it. “I know, it sucks.”

                “I need to cash in my favour.”

                He groaned. “In the middle of the night, Jean?”

                She moved to the foot of his bed. “Yes, in the middle of the night. It’s not like you were going to be sleeping.” She gave him another significant look.

                This one he understood and blushed. “Fine. Where are we going?”

                “New Hampshire. Berlin, New Hampshire.” Saying out-loud made her heart leap in her chest and her eyes bright. She saw herself through Peter’s eyes and she looked probably too excited, but she didn’t care.

                Peter groaned loudly this time. “New Hampshire?”

                “Pack an overnight bag,” she said. She walked back towards the shared bathroom. “We leave in ten.”

                “Yes, sir.” Peter rolled his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> "g slur" used (slur for Rromani people)

Hank noticed the engine rev, but Jean deleted the memory from his mind. She felt guilty using her mutation this way, but she also knew that Hank would immediately raise the alarm if he had any idea what she was up to. She also felt guilty leaving Jubilee behind, but knew that the risk of getting sick was too great if she had brought her along.

                The first few hours on the road were passed in silence. She was the map-reader and Peter was so tired that she was expending a fair amount of energy trying to keep him awake.

                In Connecticut they stopped at a café for a quick breakfast. Peter slurped down a pot of coffee and wolfed down a plate full of eggs. Her stomach was beginning to distend slightly and she rested a hand over the source of the glow that grew brighter daily in her head. She had an omelet and some juice.

                After the café, Peter was more awake and more capable of conversation.

                “So how long have you and Alex been together?” Peter’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “I mean… how long were you together before he, you know, got kicked out?”

                Jean grimaced. “Honestly? That night at the roadhouse… that was the first time we got together. I mean, I’d had a crush on him for a long time before that. He’s a really good person, Peter. And he cares about me just as much as I care about him. I can actually tell.”

                “That’s got to be nice.” Peter sighed. “So, it’s like love? You’re not going to move on?”

                “I’m blackmailing you into driving me to New Hampshire, aren’t I?”

                Peter glared. “Touché.”

                “Speaking of, how long have you been creepily obsessed with my best friend?”

                He immediately blushed. It wasn’t exactly true what she said, Peter’s crush on Jubilee wasn’t creepy. He did have a habit of fixating on things, though, and she could see that Jubilee occupied a fairly decent segment of his mental capacity. (There were parts of his mind that were mysteriously blank. It was odd. Something she’d not seen in anyone’s mind before. It was like Hank’s curtain but more pronounced and profound. She felt if she pushed enough she could breach whatever that emptiness was hiding, but Peter’s thoughts were either sluggish or frantic and regardless tended to distract her.)

                “Please, Jean, you know I’m really, really sorry about what you saw.” His apology was genuine. Peter had been agonizing since Jean had burst in on him with guilt. He consciously knew that Jean wasn’t a complete innocent, but he felt horrible for her having seen that. She knew he wasn’t fully aware of how much she knew about his… habits. Or compulsions? It felt compulsive, but she felt like that compulsion emanated from the blank portions of his mind. “It’s just, like, a crush I have on Jubilee. I mean, she’s really cute and funny. But I’ll get over it, I promise, so please, please don’t ever tell her anything about it.” Guilt enveloped him.

                “You really don’t need to feel so awful about it, Peter. There’s nothing wrong with you liking her.” Jean spoke gently but she could feel how agitated Peter was getting.

                “I _do_ need to feel awful about it. First of all, she doesn’t like me, okay, I get it. Second of all, she’s like as old as my sis—my cousin, it’s weird. She’s too young.”

                “She’s only a few years younger than you. I mean, it’s not like me and Alex.” She laughed and her chest expanded at the sudden expression of freedom. It felt great not having to lie about it. It felt great getting to joke about it.

                “Yeah, but she doesn’t like me, so that’s it. That makes it creepy. You’re right it’s creepy. I’ll get over it so it’s not even worth bothering about, okay?” Peter set his jaw and put his hyperfixation on the road ahead of them.

                Jean didn’t force the issue, but Peter’s embarrassment and guilt was much heavier than she’d expected it to be. He was barely older than Jubilee and, in spite of the self-love, his intentions were pure. It had also set off her curiosity that he’d referred to his cousin as his sister. Where did that come from? She poured herself into his mind and searched for the source, but came up empty—the emptiness. The source of everything that was odd and that seemed to feed the near constant fear and guilt that fueled Peter’s neuroses.

                Was this another one of the Professor’s blocks? How was it still in place so far from him? She didn’t want to violate Peter’s privacy, she knew that was wrong, but why was this being concealed? The only person the Professor would be hiding this from would be… her. Unless there was another telepath that she didn’t know about but she’d never detected one. Her skin crawled and she glanced back at Peter. His eyes were fixed on the road.

                She started to fiddle with the radio, but after a couple of moments of finding nothing but duds, Peter pointed her to the glovebox. She opened it up and found about ten cassette tapes.

                Peter shrugged. “I listen to them on my Walkman and sometimes when dad’s giving me driving lessons. Speaking of which, keep your… mind reading… or whatever… just be on the lookout for cops because I don’t even have a learner’s permit.”

                She pushed one of the tapes in and Steely Dan flowed out of the speakers, which soothed Peter and gave her something to distract her.

                But she couldn’t get too distracted.

                Soon she would be with Alex. She replayed in her mind and senses his fingertips dancing across her thighs and felt her heart race from the memory. She would be able to press her head to his chest and hear his heartbeat. She would be able to flow into his mind and see her love reflected and reciprocated in his soul.

                And she’d be able to tell him her secret. The thought made her throat tight. How would he react to that? Family meant everything to him, would adding to it make him happy or… something else? She’d seen Hank’s and the Professor’s reactions. They’d both been pretty appalled. She knew Alex loved her, but the possibility of his disappointment gave her a nervous itch she couldn’t scratch.

                They stopped for the night in north Massachusetts. Peter’s eyes had started twitching from too long on the road and Jean could only enhance his focus and alertness so much. He needed rest.

                She disguised the pair of them to the innkeeper and paid half of what was required for the night. She could only deceive so far though without her Catholic guilt killing her, so she only swindled them out of a single room, two beds.

                Peter kicked off his shoes and slumped onto one of the beds.

                Jean set her overnight bag in the bathtub before checking her bed to make sure it was clean. She then slipped into the bathroom and changed into her pyjamas, a long white tee-shirt and some flannel bottoms.

                “Mind if I smoke?” Peter shouted from the bed.

                “Yes. Please don’t.” Jean shouted back.

                She brushed her teeth and returned to the room where Peter was watching the news. They were still talking about that kid that had been abducted in Florida. Peter was watching it intently but through half-cast eyes. His chest slowly rose and fell. He didn’t look up at Jean.

                Jean sat down on his bed and then skooched up until she was next to him. He still didn’t look up but his posture softened.

                “Thanks for doing this,” Jean said, watching the television.

                “Well, I mean, you’re blackmailing me, so I don’t think thanking me is necessary.” Peter’s gaze stayed fixed on the television.

                “You want me to order a pizza? I have some cash and the lady at the desk gave me some phone numbers for delivery.” Jean leaned her head against Peter’s shoulder and he relaxed further.

                “Sure. I mean. I’m always hungry, so, I would love pizza.” He glanced at her before returning to the television.

                She ordered a large cheese pizza and Peter got it at the front desk when it arrived. Eventually she convinced him to change out of his clothes and into his pyjamas and they ate the pizza together, watching television until the network signed off for the night.

                Jean eventually moved back over to her own bed and slipped under the covers. They’d arranged a wake up call for seven in the morning. Jean couldn’t sense there was anything wrong or anything that would imply there were people after them.

                The freedom she’d experienced in the car earlier felt amplified. It felt, if anything, that she was somehow freer than she’d been earlier. It seemed like she was untethered. She could see more. She could feel more.

                But what was most notable was the lack of blank portions in Peter’s mind. They were… occupied. It was dark, but there was something there. There hadn’t been anything there before.

                Peter was wrapped up in the hotel’s blankets and drifting slowly to sleep, mentally saying a prayer in another language (Hebrew) three times (why three?) before slipping off into dreams.

                He took her with him to his dreams. He didn’t want to, but she slipped into his own unconsciousness as he fell.

                 Pietro could remember intensely coming into the world. Muscles around him undulated and he could feel the tension and agony in his mother’s body. He slipped out into the cold world before his twin. It was so cold and he was so upset to be apart from them both: the two women the most important in the world. He couldn’t open his eyes but someone struck his back and he began to wail.

                His twin, pesha pena, cried and was placed beside him. It hurt being in the cold, being apart from the mother, but it was so soothing being close to her again. It had hurt more being apart.

                He was in his mother’s arms and being encouraged to put his mouth on her. He knew it was her because she smelled like the known universe and not this fresh, cold hell.

                His twin did not match his soul, she was part of his soul. He hurt when she wasn’t around. He knew what she thought. Part of her was mystery, but all of anything ultimately good (G-d) was mysterious, so the mysterious was part of her. He loved her so greatly it was like loving his mother. Every moment between them was of love. His mother telling him, “don’t put that in your mouth,” that was love. His sister biting him, painful, but love.

                To be apart: that was hell. But a hell he didn’t fully understand.

                This was all context. What happened next was a memory:

                “Pietro, love, I need to talk with you.” His mother-not-mother said. She used his nav romano whenever things were serious.

                He was sitting, indian style, in front of the teevee watching with his sister-not-sister. He took a drink from his can of Coca-Cola and set it back onto the shag. That guy, Magneto, the one who may-or-may-not have gone after JFK? And the one he helped break out of that super secure prison under the Pentagon. That was a good time. What an odd group of people that’d been. He’d done his crazy showdown the day before. His sister-not-sister was coloring in a book with some sweaty crayons. One of them was being ground into the shag by his knee. He remembered everything.

                “Stop watching teevee and come, _now_.” His mother-not-mother’s voice was stern and he followed.

                He got up and followed her to the kitchen, his can sweating onto his already sweaty hands.

                “What’d I do now?” He pulled some saltines out of the cupboard and started putting peanut butter on them.

                “Pietro, pay attention to me.” She touched his shoulder. “I need to talk to you about what you saw on the news yesterday, what we all saw.”

                Peter’s stomach dropped. Did she know about his role in the jailbreak? She was already upset at him for all the other stuff. His hands shook as he shoved some peanut butter saltines in his mouth. “What about it?” He said between bites.

                She laced and unlaced her fingers. She brushed a strand of her bleached blonde hair own of her face. “There’s no easy way to tell you this.” He could tell she was nervous and she was looking at him. “Have you ever felt… well, we both know you’re different. With the speediness and everything. Well, that’s not what I’m trying to say. What I’m trying to say is. Well. Oh, gosh, Pietro, this is so hard.”

                He didn’t know what to say so he just looked at her. “Am I adopted or something? What are you trying to say, mom?”

                “I mean, kinda.”

                He stared and she wrapped him in a hug.

                “I’m sorry, Pietro, I consider you my son, I love you like a son—but you’re actually my nephew.” She paused and he could feel her chest breathing against his chest. “Your daj is my sister. That man you saw on television, the metal guy,… I know that guy. I knew him in Israel back when your mom and I were living there. He’s your father.”

                “W-where’s my mom?”

                She released him from the hug but kept her hands on his shoulders. Her face was so tired. “I don’t know. When you were three, I’m getting ahead of myself.” She inhaled deeply. “You have a sister.”

                He shrugged. “Yeah, Meg.”

                “No, Meg is your cousin.” Her grip on his shoulders tightened. “You have a twin. Her name is Wanda. She and your mother disappeared when you both were three. I have no idea where they are. I don’t know, Pietro, I don’t know.” She wasn’t able to continue. She cried and held him. He held her. She cried into his neck.

                He dreamt he was in her arms still, but it was pesha daj, and he was with mira pena. He could feel the wholeness in his soul.

                He could never tell his father. If he told him he would be so upset.

                “Deine mame.” His father took a drag from a cigarette and French inhaled. “She was my dear love. She was the first woman who ever loved me. The first person to love me. She was the first person with whom I copulated willingly. Schmidt hated it. But it was our secret. I’ll explain all of that to you another time. She was a marvellous person. She was a Rrom, but also a Jewess, a monotheist but also a sorceress… but the contradiction in her was harmonious and in her splendor she was a symphony. Creating you.” He kissed Pietro on the forehead. “Was my greatest act.”

                He loved his father. It relieved the pain of being separated from his mother and his twin. It was a part of his soul he didn’t know he lacked. His father didn’t want to upset him by being too close—they’d only just become so close—but every second and every word and every touch was loaded with the love he remembered from pesha daj, zeine mame, what he could recall from her sat deep in his heart.

                He couldn’t tell him now. The professor had told him not to.

                “Please don’t, Peter,” He’d said. “I’ll help you find them, of course, if it can be done…. Please don’t tell Erik about this.” And Pietro knew why. The kidnapping on television was enough for his father. Any pain in the world his father wanted to right. Injustice was abhorrent. But he thought his bride was dead. He didn’t even know about Pietro’s twin— _Wanda_ —and Pietro didn’t know what to or how to tell him.

                But he knew, in the same place where the memories deep inside his chest lived—the places his mind gave access to through the places that had been blocked out from Jean—he knew deep in his chest his mother and the other part of his soul, his twin, were alive. But if he forgot them, they would die. It was an enormous weight that pressed on his shoulders and punched his stomach and made his mind race and scream and made his muscles hurt and made everything so intense and painful and nauseating that he couldn’t bear it.

                He desperately needed to reconnect with his family. His father was part of it, but he needed his mother and twin.

                He turned to look at Jean in the dream and her spine fell cold.

                She extracted herself and sat up in her bed. She looked over at Pietro/Peter and he was looking at her. His expression blank.  

* * *

 

                The next morning they dressed in silence. Peter’s hands shook as he buttoned up his jeans. He tried to inconspicuously glance at Jean and see what her face was doing. She didn’t give away anything.

                She was still processing what she’d learnt from the dream. She knew now the Professor must have blocked this access from her, but she couldn’t understand why. Now that she had access though (why? How sick was the Professor? She mentally prayed for a speedy recovery.) she saw how the categories in Peter’s mind all bled together and the marbling was all tinged with an overwhelming anxiety and sadness.

                Things were always in threes for Peter. He said his Shema on sleeping and rising in threes (what if his mother and sister couldn’t say it, wherever they were?). He ate M&Ms in threes, two on one side of his mouth (him and his sister), one on the other (his mother). He encountered a new texture (it must be three times). His hands shook. His breath was tight (if he thought too much, but if he forgot they would die so he had to constantly keep them in his mind). In his mind their ambiguous forms were safe and wrapped in heavy fur coats and eating ginger snaps and drinking ginger ale. He didn’t even know what their faces looked like. Maybe if he knew their faces he could keep them more alive.

                His brain was like a flashing neon sign or a tangled ball of yarn wrapped around a melting Tootsie-pop. It was messy and the messiness terrified him and he was the only one holding together the universe.

                It touched everything; everything was sticky and burning like dry nostrils. How had the Professor concealed this much? Moreover, how’d he let some information through without the contamination of the obsessive core that spun and spun endlessly—pushing out alarmed thoughts that had appeared to her… natural and almost easy going.

                It reminded her of Alex’s Vietnam memories—though the Professor had allowed her to see those (why?)—and the anguish they caused him. But Alex’s mind had structure. He could separate. His problems occurred when things ran together. But he tried; he would consciously push the memories into the China cabinet at the back of his brain. Storage. On display. As a visitor she could see them. He really needed to dust that cabinet but he feared going near it. But Alex did have structure. He could touch a stucco wall and not feel like, by touching it, he was retroactively bringing about the deaths of his parents. His juvenile delinquency. His ejaculation. His guilt.

                She wanted to rush to Peter, to rub his shoulders, to wrap him in the embrace he so craved.

                They were here for a reason. They were here to find Alex. So he could get to be a father. So she could see the man she loved. She inhaled slowly and finished packing up her pyjamas.

                Peter held the door for her and held the both of their bags. He shoved a leftover slice of pizza into his mouth and they vacated the room.

                She distributed her mind and the bland and brisk surroundings didn’t include anyone looking for them.

                Inside the car, she put in a different tape and she and Peter sang along with David Bowie until they stopped for coffee and eggs.

                The road into Berlin she began to recognize from Hank’s memory. Minor landmarks, ones Hank had picked up on, leapt out to her. They were close.

                “You excited?” Peter asked.

                “Yes.” Jean looked around. “I’m recognizing a lot of the this from Hank’s memory. I can’t wait to see him, Peter. I’m going to tell him about everything, about the baby, about everything…”

                Peter’s brain vibrated. “… baby?”

                The light throbbed. Jean was too excited to be embarrassed by revealing her secret. “Yes. Baby.”

                Peter sighed. “Wow.”

                “Yeah.” Jean looked at the odometer. “How do you know so many languages?”

                Peter coughed. “Nice segue. I barely speak English, but thanks for noticing.” He laughed.

                “That’s not true.” Jean didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes on the road, searching for more landmarks. “You understand Mr. Lehnsherr when he speaks that Jewish language and you spoke that…other language in your dream. Sometimes in your mind it switches to different things depending on the topic. You think a lot like your dad.”

                “There are like… a couple of Jewish languages so you’re going to have to be more specific. And the “other language” is just an ethnic thing, like the Jewish shit, so don’t worry about it.” His hands tightened on the wheel.

                “You don’t tell any gadjo we’re rrom.” His mother/aunt had told him. “You don’t tell gadje ever. They will—they _will_ kill you. Like they killed my parents, and their parents, and our entire family. I want you guys to live. I want you to have kids. I don’t want this to be the end of this family. Some people know at schul. That’s it. A few other Rrom know, a few people I know in town. That’s it. You cannot trust the gadje. You cannot trust the goyim. You _know_ that, Piet, so why in the hell did your teacher told me when you were asked to fill out that form you put “Gipsy”? Are you fucking kidding me?” She ran a hand through her bleached hair. “We’re going to get burnt to death in our own home. They hate us living anywhere. They hate us _living_.”

                Jean hated that Peter categorized her with the people who’d killed his family. It hurt her deep inside her chest. The glow seemed to dull for a moment and then resurged, healthily. She could understand it, it was like the Professor couldn’t talk about his loves—excepting Moira—out of fear and the memory of physical and emotional pain. It still hurt her.

                “What do you mean an ‘ethnic’ thing?” She saw a speed limit sign from Hank’s memory. “Everyone’s an ‘ethnic’ something.”

                Peter snorted. “ _Not_ everyone. Trust me.” He shrugged. “It’s whatever. Immigrant parents. You know. »

                « I… I mean you only just met your dad not that long ago.” She felt bad calling him on his ambiguity.

                “Yeah, believe it or not, it took more than just ‘Magneto’ to make me.” He turned up the tape deck.

                She saw the gas station looming ahead. “We’re stopping there.”

                He groaned and turned down the tape deck: “We have half a tank. I don’t fill it until it’s two-thirds empty.”

                “We’re stopping there.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order.

                The glow seemed to be growing brighter the closer they got. Jean could feel it flipping and singing and reacting to her voice and the impact of the exterior on her person. _You’re going to hear your dad_ , she pushed the words to the glow but it still didn’t grasp language. It understood tone. She pushed an image of Alex, the depth of his voice, and the breadth of her love. The glow twinkled delightedly. She rested a hand on her abdomen.

                She saw the inn across the street from the gas station. She jumped out of the car the moment Peter put it in park and strode across the road. Peter zoomed to catch up with her. “Jesus, you’re not just abandoning me in fucking New Hampshire.” He shivered.

                Jean ignored him and he held the door to the inn open for her. She walked through and stepped up to the front desk, where a middle-aged woman was knitting peacefully.

                “Hi, good morning.” Jean put on a sweet smile. “I’m looking for my husband and I believe he might be staying here.”

                The lady set down her needles and a raised her eyebrows. “Oh honey, I don’t know if I should be getting involved in _that_.” Her New Hampshire accent was thick.

                “Oh, it’s nothing like that, ma’am. We’re just supposed to be meeting up today and I was wondering if you could let me know what room he’s in?” Jean maintained her sweetness and could sense the lady—Jessica’s—mind acquiescing.

                “In that case, of course.” Jessica smiled. “What’s your husband’s name, dear?”

                “Alex,” Jean said, quickly. “Alex Summers.”

                “Hmm.” Jessica opened her guest book and frowned. “Oh deary, I’m sorry. He was here until a week ago but he… well, he couldn’t pay for the room so we had to… we had to ask him to leave.” Jessica looked truly sorry.

                Jean felt gut-punched and the glow deflated. “Do you know where he went?” Her fingers gripped the front desk.

                “Well…” Jessica looked over the book to see if any notes had been made. “He has a job at the blacksmith’s. I know some of those guys live over on the east side of town.” Jessica pulled out a map and circled a network of a few streets. “But sweetie, that’s not a very safe neighbourhood. This guy your… this guy you can trust?” She whispered the words and indicated Peter with her gaze.

                “Yes, ma’am. He’s alright.” Jean sighed. “Thank you for all of your help.”

                “Of course, honey.” Jessica patted her hand. “I hope you find him. Stay safe and stay warm, okay?”

                “Yes.” Jean nodded and smiled at Jessica. “I’ll do my best.” She turned to Peter. “He’s not here; let’s go.”

                Peter hadn’t been paying attention but followed her back into the biting outdoors. “Do we know where he is?”

                “That lady said probably on the east side of town.” She showed him the map. “She said it’s not a great neighbourhood.”

                “So, of course you’d want to go there.” Peter shrugged. “What else is new?”

                They got back into the car and Peter was trying to figure out the map when a sharp knock on the driver’s side glass startled the both of them.

                Hank was standing there. Outside the car. Staring at them.

                Peter screamed, dropped the map, and rolled down the window. “Hey, Hank. What’s up?”

                “Shut up, Peter. You know this is bad.” Hank looked straight past him to Jean. “That was a dirty move, Grey, to escape when the Professor was too sick to stop you.”

                “Back off or I’ll make you.” Jean didn’t let her face change. Had she been so distracted she’d missed him tailing them? Was the Professor back to health and had blocked his presence? Regardless, she could take him now without breaking a sweat.

                “Jean, he’s not in Berlin anymore.” Hank rubbed his hands together to fight the cold. “You and Peter follow me back to the manor and we can discuss this, okay?”

                “He doesn’t even know he’s a dad.” She shot back. “How does that fit in with you and the Professor’s idea of ethics?”

                Hank looked around. “Jean, we’ll talk about this later. He does know. He knows everything.”

                Then why hadn’t he tried to contact her? She’d felt on such a deep and personal level, through his mind, through his soul, that Alex would do everything to protect family. He’d let Scott stay because he knew the school would look after him. If he knew about her child, and the way they were treating her, how could he not fight for her?

                With his mutation he could have levelled the school and killed everyone standing in their way. The idea frightened her, but the idea that he wasn’t doing anything cut her through her guts. The glow had a deep sadness and her eyes filled with tears.

                “What?” was all she could muster.

                Hank wasn’t faking sympathy. He looked at her and she could sense the great fraternal pull he felt for her. For once, it landed.

                “Okay,” she said. “We’ll go with you.”

                Peter looked at her.

                Hank sighed. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

                Hank paid for their rooms on the way back. This time she had a room to herself and Hank shared one with Peter.

                She wished she had the room with Peter because it would be better to plunder his mind than to have to live with her own.

                Hank hadn’t been lying. She’d verified it in his memories.

                And it couldn’t add up to her. Scanning Peter’s mind, she’d found this quip from the Professor:

                “We can’t tell Eric about… about your mother and sister. It’s not that he’s not entitled to this information. It’s that he’d raze the continental United States to find them.” And he believed it and Peter agreed with him.

                But he’d agreed to tell Alex that she was pregnant with his child. And, as far as she could tell, Alex hadn’t done SHIT about it. It crushed her. The glow was hurting too and she wished she could shut down her emotions or fake them to stop hurting it.

                She tried to cradle her abdomen and distract herself by focusing on the glow, on her pride, on the kindness that Hank had extended her, on the way Peter had been there for her. It didn’t work. The glow was doing the metaphysical equivalent of sobbing and so was she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I was to apologise my Romani is not good I am only learning now as an adult. When I wrote this, most of the Romani came from internet research and it probably bad Kalderash since that is most what is on the internet so it is not good and I am sorry of this. Like I said, I am learning it properly now. In future stories it should suck less. My Yiddish is much more current.  
> pesha = his  
> daj = mama  
> pena = sister  
> mira = my  
> gadjo = non-rrom person  
> gadje = non-rrom people  
> nav romano = Rromani name (note: I don't think Pietro is Peter's Rromani name, but it is the name he probably [in this case] grew up thinking it was.)  
> nav gadjikano = non-Rromani name  
> deine mame = your mother (yiddish)  
> goyim = non-Jewish people/gentiles (hebrew)


	8. Chapter 8

When they returned to the manor, they were greeted by an extremely exhausted Professor and a weary Mr. Lehnsherr. The Professor was sweating profusely and wrapped in a heavy blanket. His fever had broken earlier that day and had barely had anything to eat.

                Mr. Lehnsherr met them by the cars and helped Jean out of the car. He then rounded to the driver’s side and pulled his son out of the car roughly. “What is this? You go to New Hampshire in this flimsy jacket? You’ll freeze your ass off.”

                Inside, Mr. Lehnsherr made the Professor a Hot Toddy while Jean sat down in the kitchen.

                “Jean,” the Professor said. He wasn’t angry. He was tired. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been more communicative with you about this.” Mr. Lehnsherr put the toddy in front of him and rubbed his back gently. The Professor’s shoulder’s relaxed. “That was wrong of me. Honestly, you’re too clever for that and I should’ve known better.”

                She appreciated his opening up to her but she still resented his obfuscation in the first place. “I told you, I love him. You of all people should know the lengths we’re willing to go for people we love.”

                The Professor groaned and rubbed his scalp. Mr. Lehnsherr set a cup of tea before her and, smoothly, leant down and smelt her hair. “You’re pregnant.” He whispered in her ear.

                “Yes, I know, thank you.” She shied away from him and he smiled at her.

                “Eric, stop being creepy.” The Professor glared.

                “What?” Eric snapped back. “This girl is pregnant and you weren’t going to tell me even though I’ve been teaching the exercising class? She could have miscarried. You can smell pregnancy in hair.”

                “How about you go and talk to your son for a bit so Jean and I can catch up? I’ll talk to you later.” The Professor said.

                Eric shrugged, squeezed Jean’s shoulder, and walked over to Peter, who was talking with Hank over their hot toddies.

                “Alex knows about the pregnancy.” The Professor looked her in the eye. “He’s tried to contact you multiple times. I had him leave Berlin after I found Hank’s memory in you.” She shuddered at the thought that her blocks had not protected her from him. “I promise you I will be more open with you throughout this process.”

                “This process?” Jean asked. “I’m having a child.”

                “Yes.” The Professor sipped his toddy. “I-I am aware.”

                “Okay, because you seemed so concerned about my bodily autonomy before, please be aware that this is important to me and I won’t be giving up on being reunited with the man I love.” Jean crossed her arms.

                The Professor was still sweating and feeling faint. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

* * *

 

                Jubilee was pissed.

                “I can’t believe you ran off with Peter to go look for Alex and didn’t bring me.” She was trying not to cry since they were in calculus class and that would be awkward.

                “I’m sorry,” Jean said, and meant it.

                “You took Peter? Peter? I don’t get it.” Jubilee pouted.

                “I had dirt on him and he can drive, you can’t.”

                “You wouldn’t have needed dirt on me because I would’ve done it without being blackmailed.”

                Jubilee poked the back of Peter’s neck and Peter turned around.

                “Did you guys have fun in New Hampshire without me?” Jubilee hissed.

                Peter smirked. “No.”

                “What about New Hampshire?” Scott scooted his chair closer to Peter. “Is that where youse guys went?”

                Jean had sensed Scott’s simmering resentment about the whole thing. He thought that Peter had been trying to run away with “his girl”—Jean.

                She tried to change the subject. “You still want to go to that diner outside of town?”

                Scott wasn’t having it. “You two trying to ‘run away together’ to New Hampshire or something?”

                Peter gagged. “No, gross.”

                Jubilee was instantly offended (though still angry). “Screw you; Jean is a catch.”

                Kurt turned to Jean. “Let’s do the diner. I have been so bored. You two running away was the most interesting thing to happen in months and I wasn’t even involved.”

                Scott glared at Peter but shrugged. “Yeah, I guess we should do the diner.”

                Miss Raven, who’d been teaching the class, turned around and shushed loudly. “Peter, goddammit, can you please, please just _try_ to sit still and be quiet?” The light glinted off of her blue skin and she crossed her arms.

                Peter looked flabbergasted. “I wasn’t—I didn’t even say or do anything? Ugh!”

* * *

 

                Jean sat in the bath and let her hand float on top of the water. She danced over the surface with her fingertips and watched the steam rise up and soften her sinuses. The glow was resting, but the experience of being both submerged inside of her and of her being submerged inside of warm water herself made it feel even calmer than usual. It was resting, but it was being caressed at the same time.

                Her epidermis felt like it was mixing with the warm water and her face, above the water, felt impossibly cold near her hairline. It made the warmth all the stronger.

                Alex had tried to contact her. He’d reached out and the Professor had swatted him away. But he’d tried. She thanked God he’d tried. It was like an extra layer was wrapped around herself of protection through love. The love she felt was reciprocated and replicated in the world around her.

                She glanced her fingers over the surface again and ran a hand over her engorged abdomen.

* * *

 

                She’d wrapped herself in a bathrobe after getting out and blow-dried her hair before putting it into a neat French braid and putting some moisturizer on her legs and belly.

                She stepped out of the bathroom into her and Jubilee’s room. Jubilee was sitting on her bed, painting her nails, and didn’t look up at Jean’s entrance.

                Jean flopped onto her bed and stared at her friend for a few moments. Jubilee was still upset. She knew she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been so lonely for the few days that Jean was gone and Scott and Kurt hadn’t been much of a help. She’d missed her friend and having her back she wasn’t sure how to rekindle that closeness. Jean had an idea.

                “Can I tell you a secret?” Jean lay on her side.

                Jubilee glanced up and then back to her nails. “Sure.”

                “Someone at the school has a big fat crush on you, Jubes.” Jean giggled and Jubilee’s mind immediately lit up.

                “Oh my god, are you serious? Is it… is it Mr Lehnsherr?” Jubilee cackled.

                “Ugh, gross, no. I told you to stop with that weird fantasy.” Jean scrunched up her nose. “If I tell you, you can’t tell him I told you.”

                “Duh, or else I couldn’t get more information from you,” Jubilee said.

                “Okay, it’s Peter.” Jean said.

                Jubilee waited for a moment. Then her face fell. “Wait, are you serious? Ugh, why?”

                Jean immediately felt guilty for telling Jubilee. Maybe it would’ve been better just to let Peter’s crush fade. But she’d hoped that Jubilee would reciprocate his feelings so at least one part of his life wouldn’t be stressful. She couldn’t get a clear reading on what Jubilee was feeling—she seemed pretty shocked—but it wasn’t the overwhelmingly positive reaction she’d hoped for.

                She shrugged. “He thinks you’re really pretty and really funny and cute and stuff.” Jubilee was still shocked. “He thinks you’re hot, too, like… really hot.”

                Jubilee’s face lit up. “Did he say that?”

                “Not… exactly.” Jean didn’t want to betray Peter but it felt like it would be worse to betray her best friend. “If I tell you, you can’t say or do anything about it, okay?”

                Jubilee’s expression got brighter. “Oh my god, yes, I won’t! Tell me everything! This is amazing.”

                “Okay.” Jean inhaled deeply. “So… I kind of caught him… you know… _masturbating_ … and he was thinking about you. And he does that a lot.”

                Jubilee’s mind was suddenly in overdrive. “Oh my god, ah!!!! Gross. I love it.” She paused. “Wait, so you saw this?”

                Jean groaned; she could sense where this was going. “Yes, unfortunately.”

                “Oh my god, yes! Does he… you know… take after his dad?” Jubilee raised her eyebrows suggestively.

                “God, you’re so nasty. I’m not answering that.” Jean pulled her robe closer around her neck.

                “I’m not hearing a ‘no’!” Jubilee cackled obnoxiously. “Ugh, this is perfect. Amazing. I love it.” She wrapped herself in her arms and laughed some more.

                “And he was really nice about helping me.” Jean smiled. “So I think he’s a pretty nice guy.”

                Jubilee let go of herself. “I’m sorry you didn’t find Alex. That must’ve been really… I don’t know, like really sad.”

                Jean sighed. “It’s been devastating. I don’t know. But now I don’t have any leads, so I have no idea what I’m going to do next.”

                Jubilee closed her bottle of nail polish and checked her nails to make sure they were dry. She slipped over onto Jean’s bed and wrapped her in her arms. “We’ll find something. I promise. And even if we don’t, I’ll be here for you and I’ll be here for… the baby.” She kissed Jean on the cheek.

                Jean closed her eyes and leant against her friend. Jubilee was sincere. “Thanks, Jubes. I think I’m going to have to convince the Professor, I guess. But I don’t know how to do that.”

                “We’ll figure it out.” Jubilee hugged her closer. “I promise.” She shut her eyes and nestled her face against Jean’s. “But you have to tell me all about that dick, though.”

                “Ugh!” Jean pushed her off. “Nasty!”

                Jubilee laughed some more. “Okay, I’m going to paint your toenails. My cousin sent me this polish she got from her favourite salon in PV and I know you’re going to love it!”

* * *

 

                Mr Lehnsherr’s demeanour to her changed following him “discovering” her pregnancy. In P.E., he made her sit out the “exercises” and would sneak her pieces of cake, bread, and chocolate between classes.

                “Eh! Jean!” He called when she was trying to get from math class to literature.

                “What, Mr Lehnsherr?” She tried to sound polite but she was exhausted and her back hurt.

                He approached her and put a hand on her back. He pulled a muffin out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Here you are, mamele. Eat some bread.” He patted her back. “We must make sure you are eating enough. Let me know if you want anything awful and I will ensure we get it for you. I know ladies who are carrying like terrible food sometimes.” He smiled gently at her. “You can always be late to my class for sleeping.”

                She grimaced. “Thanks.” She took a bite out of the muffin and slipped away from him and bumped right into Scott.

                “What are youse talking about?” Scott smiled.

                “Mind your business, child.” Mr Lehnsherr scowled and pushed past him.

                “Jeez! What’s with that guy?” Scott muttered. “You still wanna go to that diner?”

                Jean scanned his mind quickly to ensure he hadn’t heard her conversation. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep this a secret, though, since it was becoming more and more prominent daily.

                She smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

                “I was thinking we could go after class today.” He walked so close to her their arms brushed up against each other. “Mr Lehnsherr is in charge for the afternoon and we both know he doesn’t care.”

                “Sounds like a plan.” She gave him another warm smile.

                She immediately wrote a note to Peter, Jubilee, Kurt, and Storm (she and Jubilee talked and decided they wanted to add her to their clique) and invited them to come that afternoon.

                When class finally let out for the day, the Professor and Hank left to go into town and Jean and the gang waited until they were about thirty minutes out to make their escape.

                “Dad,” Peter said, before Jean could stop him. “We’re going into town to go hang out at a diner. You need me to pick up anything for you?”

                Mr Lehnsherr kissed his son on the forehead: “Please get me some cigarettes.”

                The diner reminded Jean of the ones she and Peter had visited on their excursion. It felt like it hadn’t changed in at least twenty years. The hostess was very young and pretty and got them set up at a chrome booth by a window.

                It was nice being outside the school again, but Jean hadn’t been cooped up long enough to really feel the full relief of it. Though she could see in Jubilee, Scott, Kurt, and Storm’s minds how much of a difference this made to them.

                Storm was a good addition to their group, as Jean had suspected she would be. Her sense of humour perfectly aligned with Kurt’s and they were laughing together over their hotdogs. Jean was working to disguise everyone who needed disguising. Jubilee got up at one point to excuse herself to the restroom and Scott immediately took her spot cosied up next to Jean.

                “Okay, so let’s hear the truth, what _really_ were you and Peter doing up in New Hampshire?” Scott just said it straight.

                Jean couldn’t help it but she instantly blushed. She didn’t want to tell Scott like this in front of all these people.

                “Looking for a fun little get-away, yes?” Kurt wiggled his eyebrows. “But Piet’s a bit too _fast_ for that to be satisfying, eh?” Kurt and Storm high-fived and laughed.

                Scott’s brain lit up from anger. “Are you two together?”

                Peter glared at Kurt and then turned to Scott. “I told you, no. We’re not.”

                Jean breathed deeply.

                Scott stared at her. “And you’re not going to tell me, huh?”

                Peter shrugged. “Well, to be honest, it’s really none of your business.”

                The silence that followed was awkward and prolonged. Scott was stewing in his anger and Peter was trying not to look at anyone. Jubilee returned to the table and sat next to Peter since Scott had taken her spot.

                The glow was swimming in Jean’s head and she felt excitement radiate from it.

                “Okay, well, I’d like to know what the big secret is about. I mean, we’re your friends, Jean. You can talk to us, you know?” Scott meant it.

                Jean looked across the table at Jubilee who gave her an encouraging smile. She breathed deeply before speaking: “Guys, I’m pregnant.”

                Everyone (except Peter and Jubilee) gasped. “How long have you been pregnant?” Kurt said. Storm’s eyes were wide and she was frozen with half a hotdog in her mouth.

                Scott wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Peter and his mind was racing. “You did this,” he said, under his breath.

                Peter gagged on some eggs. “What’s you saying?”

                Scott dropped his cutlery and stood up, never taking his gaze from Peter. “I said _you did this_ you, you—you fucking bastard!”

                Before Jean could move, Scott leapt across the table to punch Peter in the face, but Peter used his mutation to get out of the way, meaning Kurt got the brunt of Scott’s ire.

                “Ay!” Kurt shrieked and disappeared (back to the manor).

                Storm screamed.

                Jean froze everyone’s mind and erased the fight from the other diner goers. She kept their minds frozen while she released her friends.

                “What the hell is wrong with you?” She shouted at Scott. She felt like she was going to start bawling but couldn’t lose complete control.

                “You’re a coward!” Scott shouted at Peter who was standing on the other side of the diner now. “Come back here and fight me like a man!” Scott’s mind was on fire and his rage was causing him to think hateful and cruel things about Peter that Jean knew he didn’t mean but hated to see anyway.

                Peter zoomed back over but stayed far enough away that Scott couldn’t reach him. “It’s not my baby, you dipshit.”

                “Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that! After you and she ran off to fucking New Hampshire!” Scott’s tears were burning in his goggles.

                Jean tried to touch Scott’s arm but he pulled it away. “Scott, please. It’s not Peter’s.”

                Scott turned to her and it was getting harder for him to see through the tears. “Who, then?”

                Jean tried to breathe slowly to maintain her control but the strain was making her sick. She didn’t want to have this conversation with Scott in front of everyone. “Scott, can I tell you in private? Please?”

                “Nah.” Scott shook his head. “I think everyone deserves to hear this.” _Everyone deserves to hear what a fucking slut you are_. He didn’t say it, but she heard it in his mind nonetheless and it stung.

                “It’s… it’s Alex’s.”

                Immediately she could sense the intense pain that lit up Scott’s already burning brain.

                “You… you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Scott’s voice was low. Jean could sense that bubbling rage again and found her throat tight from fear he would lash out again.

                “That’s why we went up to New Hampshire,” Peter said, as slowly and calmly as he could. “Because we wanted to find your brother.”

                Scott shut his eyes and lifted up his goggles so some of the tears could escape. “Right.” He nodded. “Of course, makes sense.”

                “Scott.” Peter reached out to him but Scott pulled away from him, too. “It’s not about you.”

                “I know that!” Scott spat. “I didn’t say it was about me!”

                Peter tried to sigh in a way that wouldn’t give away how frustrated he was. “I know, but you’re kind of making it about you.”

                “No, I was making it about you because I thought you were taking advantage of a younger girl.” Scott laughed. “But no, turns out my brother was doing that, so it’s whatever.”

                The strain was pressing on Jean more and she was scared she might faint again but her stomach was curdling and she just wanted to take back the entire day if she could.

                “Can we please sit down at the table so I don’t have to keep this up?” She gasped at Peter and Scott.

                Scott shook his head. “Nah, I’m heading back to the manor.” He dropped some cash on the table and pushed out the door.

                Jubilee muttered. “Asshole.”

                Peter sat down at the table and gestured for Jean to stop freezing the diner. She relented and was grateful for the plate of French fries in front of her because the tension that had gripped her entire being from the use of her mutation and the fight.

                She shovelled the fries into her mouth and slurped down what was left of Kurt’s milkshake. She had felt Scott’s pain. He did love her. He did care about her. And he didn’t want her to be with anyone other than him. But his pain bled into his rage. He _didn’t_ want her with anyone else. The idea that she’d had sex with anyone else—let alone got pregnant—made him livid. The idea that his brother, another person he loved, had betrayed him like this made him even more angry.

                Jean remembered, soberly, that Scott’s mutation was as dangerous as his brother’s. If Scott wanted to get revenge, he could kill everyone.

                She didn’t think he would do that but she was so hurt by the things he’d thought about her and Peter and Alex that she didn’t know what to think.

                “Here.” Jubilee pushed her slice of pie towards Jean. “You can have this, too. I don’t want to finish it.”

                Storm was still sitting in the corner, totally alarmed. “Wow… Jean… I’m really sorry that Scott reacted like that.”

                Jean felt sorry that this had to be Storm’s first outing with their group. What a SHITTY introduction. “No, I’m sorry, Storm. You don’t have to apologise for Scott and I’m just really sorry that this had to be your first time out with us.”

                “Yeah,” Jubilee turned to Storm. “I swear we’re not normally this crazy.”

                “Are you excited about the baby?” Storm looked at Jean.

                “Yeah, actually, I am.” Jean’s chest relaxed a bit and she took a bite of Jubilee’s pie. “Because of, you know, my mutation, I can already feel them and their mind. I’m so excited to meet them, but I’m already in love with them.”

                Storm smiled warmly. “That’s beautiful. Also, you guys don’t have to call me Storm. My name is actually Ororo.”

                “That’s a really nice name,” Peter said to her.

                “Do you have any ideas for names?” Jubilee looked at Jean, excited. “Maybe Jubilation? Just saying, it’s a great name.”

                Peter squirmed uncomfortably. Something about the idea of naming a baby before its birth frightened him. Also the idea of naming a baby after someone living.

                The fear was contagious. “I’m not sure yet.” Jean sighed. “I kind of wanted Alex to help on that one.”

                “I’m sure he’d be good with Jubilation.” Jubilee grinned. “It’s just kind of a great name and I think—since your kid’s going to be awesome—it would fit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update weekly and include translations if there's any parts in other languages.


End file.
